


Face My Fears

by Wolfcreations21



Series: Face My Fears [1]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/F, Freeform, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, I have no idea what I'm doing, MVP Blake, after Volume 7, blood and injury warning?, first fanfic, gay af, let me know of additional tags pls, major character disappearance?, no beta we die like men, sadness and sorrow and tears oh my, send help, songfic?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:49:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 126,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28434183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfcreations21/pseuds/Wolfcreations21
Summary: (Inspired by the KH3 song)During the attack on Atlas, Ruby Rose was taken by Salem and vanished without a trace. Left without their beacon of hope and in the ruins of the floating kingdom, Team RWBY is left behind to pick up the pieces.This is the final battle...
Relationships: Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long, Ruby Rose/Weiss Schnee
Series: Face My Fears [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2082687
Comments: 113
Kudos: 126





	1. Verse 1

**Author's Note:**

> *Peeks around a corner*  
> Uhhh... Hi! So, I'm new to ao3, and I've been a lurker in the RWBY fandom for a while and I've finally found the courage and inspiration to do... this. Giant project. Very ambitious, I know. I've written fanfiction for another fandom before (and if you happen to recognize my name, hello!) Anyway, this is something that I've been working on for a while. Every time I listen to Face my Fears, a little movie always plays in my head that I wish I could animate cause it seems so cool. So I wrote some notes down, got my butt to my laptop, scrounge up my courage to do this, and here we are.  
> With a lot more liberties and free will to write it out and make it longer and stuff, this monstrosity was born. So, uh, yeah. Hope you like it?  
> Unfortunately, I don't have a set schedule of when the next part will come out, but it'll come out when it comes out. This goes through the entire song, line by line, and whatnot. Enjoy!

Remnant was in a state of permanent, pure panic.

It would have been funny- watching everybody run around like a chicken without its head- if the reason for this wasn’t so sad. They had lost their silver-eyed warrior to the enemy; Salem had swooped in on her giant whale like a storm cloud, decimating entire districts of Atlas and Mantle with nothing more than a flick of her wrist and an entourage of Grimm unlike any other.

Lightning came in the form of creatures of darkness faster than anybody could even blink- tearing civilians and huntsmen and huntresses limb by limb in the span of a few seconds. The cries of the dead and dying had been the thunder, consistent and rolling and _loud_. Everything had been so damn loud.

The torrential winds had come in the form of Atlas falling- quite literally. The whale had latched onto the cables and had _pulled_ the giant rock in the sky, destroying the mines and buildings of Mantle down below so only the very edges of the city remained relatively untouched. Everyone and everything had lost its balance, off-kilter and scrambling for purchase and some sort of sense.

The rain had come in the form of everyone being split apart by rotten luck and a misguided sense of protection. One would think they would have learned to stick together after the fall of Beacon, but old habits die hard and this one _refused_ to be killed so easily. It had put up one hell of a fight, and it had won in the end.

The ice came in the aftermath. When the clouds had parted and Salem had mercifully retreated… No, that wasn’t right.

Salem had been winning, there had not been any reason for her to leave without absolutely destroying all of Atlas and all of its people. But she did, and at first, everyone had been too grateful to consider asking why. Everyone but Weiss, who had been the only one to see the devil up close.

Salem’s goal had not been to decimate Atlas and leave it in ruins. This was all a game to her, after all, and the game would be boring if she won so easily.

She had left because she had arrived for one thing and one thing only. Not for the Lamp of Knowledge or the Staff of Creation, like they thought she was after, but perhaps the only trump card they didn’t even know they had.

A trump card that came in the form of one silver-eyed warrior with a red cloak.

Ruby had been taken, and when the clouds had parted to reveal the aftermath, _everyone_ was lost without their beacon of hope.

Their world had been destroyed, and the remainder of team RWBY had been left behind to pick up the pieces.

**_…_ **

_Weiss was running._

_She didn’t know exactly where she was running to, just that she had to run. She had to run because everything was falling apart, people were dying, Salem was here, and in the chaos, they had evidently lost sight of Ruby. Yang and Blake and the others had obviously freaked out, even more so when every single one of their attempts to call her using their scrolls failed. If they had to guess, Ruby’s scroll must have been broken sometime during this horrible night._

_They had all tried looking for her together, but with the night wearing on and the darkness only getting darker, the Grimm only getting stronger, faster, deadlier; they had more pressing matters at hand._

_So Weiss, doing her darndest to actually be the best partner ever, had volunteered to keep looking. On her own, using her Glyphs to protect her and propel her away from any Grimm that chased her even as every instinct in her body urged her to dispose of them. She wasn’t doing her job as a huntress if she didn’t kill the Grimm…_

_She wouldn’t be doing her job as a_ partner _if she did._

_To her, partner beat huntress, and so she ran._

_Winded and exhausted, she kept running. When she didn’t think she could breathe, she kept running. When she didn’t think she could take another step, she kept running._

_When she didn’t think she could run, she kept running, because Ruby was more important than her body’s signals to get her to stop to catch her breath. (Finding Ruby was more important than breathing.)_

_So, choking and perhaps naught but a few seconds away from passing out due to lack of oxygen, Weiss ran._

_She ran and ran and ran until she didn’t think she could keep going and ran still._

_The streets of Atlas and the hallways of Atlas Academy were all a blur of silver and white really, every color exactly the same and all she was hoping for was just that_ splash _of red._

_Red like roses. Red like blood._

_Red like_ Ruby _._

_Perhaps it was more rotten luck or cruel faith that Weiss finally did stop running, arriving at the end of one of the many long hallways of the school that stretched on for miles and miles and miles._

_A courtyard opened up to her at the end, and she saw more grey and white and silver, but she also saw_ red _._

_Ruby was here._

_And she also saw_ black _._

_Salem was here, too._

_The courtyard was littered with petals that had yet to fade, the spiral of Ruby’s semblance flashing from point A to point B so quickly it almost looked like she was teleporting. Ruby was a blur of constant movement, Crescent Rose swinging wildly and curved blade glistening in the silver moonlight, and she appeared to be dodging what looked like shadows given life. Darkness, not unlike the Grimm, given command; puppets pulled on strings and Salem was the puppet master at the center of it all._

_Unlike Ruby, Salem was stationary. Only her arms lifted, pointing this way and that like a conductor in an orchestra and directing the long shadows to wherever Ruby was. They stretched like tendrils along the ground, gliding against the space between them and reaching like clawed fingers to the girl in red._

_It was hauntingly beautiful to witness. Dark shadows cleaved into smithereens by a crimson scythe, the huntress in the scarlet cloak dashing and disappearing in a flurry of red petals to escape their reach each and every time._

_Weiss could only stand to watch for so long, taking two steps into the courtyard and immediately regretting it because the metronome movements of this puppet show were disturbed almost instantaneously._

_One look, a fraction of a second where Ruby’s focus had been disturbed to look towards Weiss-_ That _was what ruined her._

_Because Ruby had shifted her attention away and had failed to notice the tendrils wrapping around her ankle- failed to notice it until it was too late and its grip on her was secure and it tugged her off balance. Ruby landed with a solid thud against the ground, so much so Weiss winced and wondered just how bruised and broken Ruby would be after this, and the rest of the shadows had torn Crescent Rose from her hands. The scythe landed helplessly a ways away from its master, nothing more than a block of red-painted steel instead of the killing instrument it had been in Ruby’s hands._

_Ruby immediately scrambled for purchase, moving this way and that and attempting but failing to kick the shadows away as she rolled onto her stomach. They were dragging her across the ground, straight to the outstretched and waiting hands of Salem who had a terrifyingly triumphant look on her face._

_The world darkened around them and Weiss didn’t know why she was frozen in place, didn’t know why she didn’t immediately run out to help her partner because_ damn it _\- she was supposed to help! Why wasn’t she_ moving _?!_

_Weiss stretched out her arms and willed her legs to move but while her arms lifted, her feet stayed firmly planted in place. She uselessly tried reaching towards her partner, her leader, her friend: hoping that the distance between them would magically disappear and she could hold Ruby and pull her from the shadows._

_But they were consuming her, and Ruby was being dragged farther and farther away despite her blunt nails digging into the stone ground. When it became obvious that neither could do nothing but accept the inevitable, silver eyes found desperate blue._

_Ruby… Ruby had looked so_ scared _. Terrified, and… and_ hopeless _._

_Weiss had never seen her like that before._

_Ruby was always the brave one. Even when she was scared, she didn’t show it and instead kept on keeping on for the sake of the others. She was so full of hope and light and Weiss and everyone else selfishly fed off of her radiance._

_And Salem snuffed out that light with nothing more than a flick of her wrist._

_Tears fell from Ruby’s eyes, and just as the world and her vision completely faded into darkness, she could see Ruby’s lips move with one single word, one single plea and it echoed like a shout in Weiss’s mind._

_“Help…”_

…

**_~:Breath, should I take a deep?:~_ **

Weiss woke up choking on her scream, breathless.

No matter how many times in the past few months- Months? Days? Weeks? She was too aware and not aware at all of how much time had passed- she woke up like this, every night was just as bad as the last. A nightly occurrence that she could not get used to no matter what. She didn’t know if that was a good or a bad thing- getting used to it.

She couldn’t breathe, and though Blake had taught her some breathing exercises to do on occasions like this, she couldn’t seem to remember any of them. She couldn’t remember because the echoes of what she had _seen_ , what she had _heard_ that dreaded night, were so damn _loud_ in her head. Weiss couldn’t even hear her own panicked, choked breaths through all the noise.

She had failed.

That night, she had so horribly, terribly, and undoubtedly failed at the one thing she had committed herself to be: a partner. Being a partner was the only thing she could identify herself with recently, ever since the whole fiasco with her father’s falling out and the fate of the SDC hanging in the balance, and everyone- including herself- was wondering whether or not she would actually accept the title of CEO. Everything with that had been confusing, so Weiss had decided that- in the face of, you know, trying to save the world- she would unpack it later.

Being a partner was no less confusing, but to her, it had made sense, in an innate type of way.

And now, she had fucked it up.

She had been the only one to find Ruby, she had been the only one there to help, and she…

Failed.

Ruby was gone and everyone had lost hope and Blake- funnily enough- was doing her best to keep everyone together and Yang either depressedly stayed in her room all day or spent the entire day at the training room destroying simulation after simulation- it flipped from time to time and every day was a gamble and horrible game of Russian roulette with her- and the others were half-heartedly trying to help in any way they can and didn’t know where to even start coming up with a plan and Weiss…

Weiss…

Weiss woke up in the middle of the night screaming or choking on her scream, so… It’s safe to say she wasn’t doing too good either. She tried, _Gods_ did she try, to keep going, to rack her brain and the brains of the others together to try and come up with some sort of game plan but most of the time she was just…

Just so tired. And broken.

Broken was a nice word- Well, not a _nice_ word, but the _right_ one.

Broken broken _broken_ …

Weiss could hear something like a dying whine and it took her a lot longer than it should have to realize it had come from _her_ mouth, from _her_ chest. The memories were still loud and still so fresh she was afraid of closing her eyes, or even blinking because she could still see Ruby’s teary silver eyes and Salem’s triumphant red ones and the blackness of the shadows and- It hurt to blink.

The sobs escaped her lips before she could stop them, and really, the effort she made to stop them was so weak it was downright pitiful. If Weiss could look at herself now, could leave her body, and just look at her from an outsider’s perspective, the sight would have made her thoroughly embarrassed. Such a prideful girl she had been, so assured of herself…

Reduced to nothing more than a shivering mess of tears and heartache.

Another cry escaped her but it was muffled as she placed a hand to her mouth, trying to stop it and catch the sound before it could fully escape because _it was night_ which meant _people were sleeping_ and it would be quite rude of her to wake them up with her nightmares. Some nights, she can’t help it, can’t catch the sounds because there’s too many of them and she’s downright hysterical with her sobs that threaten to tear her apart from the inside out. On those nights, the worst ones, Blake comes in- having heard her loud and clear two rooms down from where they were stationed in this weird military base that acted as a makeshift refugee for the survivors of Atlas and Mantle- she’s always rushing and enters without knocking which scares Weiss more sometimes and her ears are drooping with expressive sorrow even as her face holds a frown.

It’s a miracle any of them could continue standing on their own two feet after it all happened, but Blake was a survivor of many hardships and it was showing now more than ever. Honestly, she’s the only one holding everybody together, and some days Weiss feels bad for making it worse and other times she’s almost offended because how dare _anybody_ stay put together after Ruby’s disappearance? But Blake does, and on the nights where she hears Weiss crying, she wordlessly strolls over and sits on the space the too-large-for-one-person bed has and hugs her.

The first few times, Blake had tried getting Weiss to talk- about her nightmares and everything- but Weiss never did. So now, she just… holds Weiss.

She doesn’t even speak, just rubs her hands on Weiss’s back, up and down and comforting and her grip is tight and unwavering and Weiss is grateful… She’s grateful because it feels like, if only for a moment, the broken pieces of her are fitted together for however long Blake hugs her. But then, when Weiss has stopped crying and she’s thoroughly exhausted, Blake releases her, helps her lay back down, and leaves and Weiss spends the rest of the night crying silently instead.

Tonight would not be one of those nights, surprisingly so, so she guesses it's an improvement of sorts. That doesn’t mean tonight doesn’t hurt any less than the others. Pain has just been a constant thing lately and _hurt_ is the only word she could describe herself as (other than _broken_ ).

Tonight, Weiss would have to hold _herself_ together until it subsides, and for half a moment she just wants to lay back down and accept it, let the pain destroy her completely because at least then it would finally end. But she doesn’t do that, because that would be admitting defeat and though Weiss was broken- nay, _shattered_ : that was the better word- she was still stubborn.

So, slowly, ever so slowly and with more effort than it really should have, Weiss curls her knees towards herself, close enough for her to hug them as she folds into herself, hiding her face from the world and just… crying. Her body is shaking and it has nothing to do with the cold but that’s not surprising because the blanket she has is thick and the military base is surprisingly well-heated.

She still can’t breathe properly, but at least it doesn’t feel like she’s choking so that’s an improvement in a way.

Weiss doesn’t know how much longer she could take of this, really. She doesn’t know how much longer any of them could take of this. The pain and the hurt and the brokenness only climbs higher and higher the longer time passes and she wonders which one of them would quit first. (Perhaps it’s some sick, twisted game all of them don’t even know they’re playing together- trying to beat the others by not being the first to quit. In a way, this sick, twisted game is the only thing keeping all of them alive and _here_.)

The memories flash in her mind, relentless and killing a piece of her every time, but she holds onto them desperately.

It may be one of the last things she has of Ruby…

And it's one of the only things keeping her going. One of the only things that make taking the next breath after this one and the next breath after that and the next and so forth possible.

One day, she would be strong enough to push past the pain and actually take initiative and lead the others…

But for now?

For now, Weiss holds herself together and cries.

**…**

**_~:Faith, should I take a leap?:~_ **

It’s hard being the optimist, and Blake knows now more than ever why she was never one before. It’s hard to keep the faith and believe in faith when faith was the one thing that always seemed to screw them over in the end.

But because Yang has been slipping through the cracks and the ever-present shine she always exuded is disappearing like a candle flame in a maelstrom and Weiss spends most of her days and nights wailing and her heart is doing a better job at killing her than Salem ever would… Well…

 _Someone_ has to stay put together. _Someone_ has to keep fighting and stay hopeful and not fall apart.

Someone has to keep the faith.

And perhaps it was even more twisted faith, she convinces herself it’s a sick game the Gods are playing with their lives, that _she_ is the one that has to be the person to do that. Out of everyone.

If Ruby was here, the role would go to her.

But, she isn’t so…

It’s Blake’s job.

She takes it with stride, doing her best to be in all places at once and picking up the pieces of everybody as they slowly chip and fall apart and she keeps those pieces close to herself and guards it with her very being- keeping them safe for whenever everybody is ready to be pieced back together. It’s taxing and exhausting and where Weiss and Yang spend more time sleeping the days away and Nora idly wanders like a lost soul and Jaune stares off into the distance like an answer will magically appear out of nowhere if he stares long and hard enough... Blake works even harder than before. She’s not alone, not entirely. Ren has grown ferocious as the two of them make efforts to put together everything they know about Salem and the Grimm and the continents and where Ruby could be and silver-eyed warriors and what the devil could possibly be doing to her at any moment.

They don’t find anything concrete. Only speculation after speculation after speculation and if anything, that is the part that hurts more for Blake. To work so hard and still not come up with anything solid enough to garner focus. Ren is frustrated, and just like Blake, he, too, spends a lot of his time picking up the pieces of his teammates and sheltering them within his own broken shell.

Blake had always hated coffee, she just preferred the soothing taste of tea, but nowadays, she can’t exactly survive off of such little caffeine anymore. She knows, _she knows_ it’s bad for her to pull multiple all-nighters in a row and for her to keep going and going and going and never once taking a rest… but she doesn’t have the privilege to stop. If she stops to rest for a day, then that’s a day wasted where she could’ve been looking for more info, searching searching searching endlessly, and holding Weiss and Yang together enough for them to continue taking in their next breath.

“Tomorrow is a new day,” she and Ren have taken up to saying when the moon draws near every time and they split off to research on their own while simultaneously checking in on their teammates. _Tomorrow is a new day_.

Maybe they’ll find something tomorrow.

Or the next...

Or the next...

...Or the next...

Blake blows out a heavy sigh from where she sits on a rooftop somewhere back in Argus. Her research leads her far from the military base in Atlas, farther than she likes sometimes if she’s been honest; the one good thing that came out of that disaster of a night was the launching of the communication tower. With communications back on, it was easy to tell the whole world what happened and what was to come. Panic was inevitable, and it wasn’t too far from the truth to say that the very world was waiting on bated breath for the final battle that was to come eventually.

Time was running out, and yet, nothing. Blake is half-convinced that Ozpin _knows_ where Salem’s realm could be, hiding the truth out of fear or selfishness yet again, but she’s honestly too tired to fight that battle with him alone. So, she resorts to the next best thing- using her connection to the new White Fang led by her parents to extend the reach of her eyes and ears. Her spies are everywhere, constantly searching just like her, and it would have brought her some comfort in her head if they didn’t _fail_. Just like her, they could never find anything, and every time Blake is to meet with one of them here in Argus, the cracks in her soul splinter wider and wider and she wonders just how long it was going to take for her to start falling apart as well.

She’s exhausted. The bags underneath her eyes are a permanent part of her face now and it’s worse than when she had been obsessed with finding Torchwick in what feels like a different lifetime altogether. (Except this time, Yang isn’t there to get her to stop and rest because Yang doesn’t know how to get going anymore.) There’s a deep ache in her muscles, her bones, her heart, and it’s going to take an eternity of rest for her to ever feel energized again. She’s aware she looks like a wreck, but today is a particularly hard day for her to stay optimistic.

Running a hand down her face, she takes a moment to rest her eyes shut, only a moment. _Fuck_ , she’s so damn _tired_ …

If only she could close her eyes and finally… just… rest...

Blake shakes her head quickly, disoriented and dizzy as her fingers grip into the wood beneath her and she thinks one of her nails cracked with the suddenness of it all because she almost fell straight off the roof just now falling asleep. A deep inhale of the sharp wintery air hurts her lungs, but the cold pricks and pokes at her body and her senses to wake up a bit so it’s _something_. It’s something.

Beneath her on the streets below, the people are tense as they move around like they’re running from something but they don’t know which direction is safe anymore. Soldiers in uniform are in constant patrol as well- meant to symbolize strength and protection, Ironwood had said, but, to Blake at least, it only puts people more on edge- and she knows without having to see them that there are huntsmen and huntresses at the borders of Argus. Maybe fighting Grimm that have grown antsier and more dangerous nowadays, or maybe just scouting for them.

She knows it’ll only be so long before she’d have to join them, and honestly, she doesn’t know how well she would fare even _seeing_ a Grimm right now. Just the thought of them makes her stomach churn and makes her heart clench and throat squeeze, because thinking about the Grimm made her think about _that night_ , and thinking about _that night_ made her want to curl up into a ball and never lift her head again. _So much loss... so much loss, and so little gain._

_How much more can we lose?_

A muted thump behind her alerts her senses, one cat ear swiveling back as the silent footsteps came ever closer on the roof with the balance of someone who spent most of their time walking on precarious edges. Blake let out another sigh before making the herculean effort to stand, running a hand through her hair to try and make herself a little bit more well put together. She turns around, walking a few steps to lose sight of the crowd, and comes face-to-face with a frowning Ilia. Her friend was perhaps the one that searched the hardest, always the one to deliver the news, and a small part of her is grateful because the news is never good and Ilia delivers the sucker punch to her gut as gently as she could each time.

Ilia is worried about her, Blake could see it in the way her eyes roam over Blake’s body and the way her brows pinch together and lips curl downward in a frown. She looks like she’s in pain, and Blake almost feels like apologizing for making her worry so much. But she doesn’t, she can’t apologize because it’s useless.

The first few times they started these meetings, Blake always took the time to catch up with Ilia and her friend indulged her, the two just talking for a few moments and keeping their mind off of the inevitable bad news one had to hear and the other had to deliver. Those moments became shorter until it became just pleasantries between the two, maybe an occasional hug or two or three, and even then, it waned ever smaller.

So, now, they merely share a look in greeting, eyes meeting, and then Ilia…

Ilia shakes her head, regretful. Her frown deepens and her eyes are apologetic.

And Blake…

Blake sighs, understanding. _No information. No findings._

_Nothing._

She had been expecting that, yet still… Still, it hurts and Blake is honestly a bit impressed that it could still hurt. No matter how much preparation she does to hear the fated bad news, it doesn’t change anything.

It hurts, it hurts and it hurts and oh Gods she’s tired, she’s tired and _tired_ and-

“Thank you,” Blake manages to say even though her throat feels clogged and her eyes sting. She says it because it’s the right thing to do; it would help nobody for her to get angry with Ilia because it’s not Ilia’s fault nobody could find Ruby and it’s not Ilia’s fault that Ruby is gone in the first place. So, she stores her anger- her anger and her sorrow and her cracks and desperation for a later time. Preferably when they finally came across Salem, then she’d release it all there. ( _If_ they ever came across Salem.)

Blake turns to walk away, not caring that they were on a roof, and only stops when Ilia makes to grab at her wrist, pulling her to a halt. Blake stiffens immediately.

“Blake,” Ilia says, and Blake could hear the pain in her voice, the unsaid sorry’s. There are about a million other things she might want to say as well, but she doesn’t, she doesn’t go on that tirade and instead, all Ilia says is, “You should get some rest.”

Blake snickers, because it’s funny.

It’s funny because she wants to snap back and say, “I wish,” but that wouldn’t be fair to Ilia so she bites her tongue instead. It’s funny because Ilia says it as if it’s that easy as simply laying down and closing her eyes, and again, Blake wants to say, “I wish,” because it isn’t that easy. She tried, _fuck_ did she try, but she could never.

It’s funny because here she is: trying and trying and trying to keep everything together, herself and her teammates and her friends and the hope and the faith, while simultaneously failing and failing and failing to find anything that could point them in the right direction to where Ruby or Salem or both could be. It’s funny because she’s over here, being the optimist when that was supposed to be Ruby’s job because Ruby was gone because they failed to protect her and suddenly it’s not so funny anymore.

It’s sad.

Blake feels the cracks in her soul, her very being, grow ever wider, span ever farther, dig ever deeper… and she starts to chip.

“Yeah,” Blake says so quietly it’s hard even for herself to hear, “thanks.”

And she pulls her wrist from Ilia’s gentle grip, not even turning around to face her friend because she knew that if she did, she’d fall apart and she couldn’t exactly have that now.

An optimist never got to rest, after all.

Blake stares off into the distance, off to one side where she imagines there to be some huntsmen or huntress out there in the wild fighting for their life against the Grimm and then off to the other where a ship would take her back to the military base her friends and her teammates and her family are too busy falling apart to truly notice her missing for the moment. She looks up towards the sky, to the sun covered by dark clouds to paint the picture of a gloomy day reflecting everybody's current mood. Perhaps the world, too, was sad for their loss.

Ilia doesn’t try to stop her or say anything else anymore. She would go back to her assignment and hope and beg and pray that the next time they met, she would have better news. (She knows, deep down, that she wouldn’t.)

Blake draws in a deep breath, the cold air aching and stabbing at her lungs and she relishes in the sting because it wakes her up and makes her a bit more alert. She couldn’t afford to stop and rest now. Not with Ruby still missing and everybody else falling apart before her eyes.

She is the optimist, she _has_ to be the optimist, so it’s her duty to keep it together.

Blake takes off at a run on her next breath, leaping off of the roof and enjoying the feeling of weightlessness- if only for a moment- because recently, the weight on her shoulders is crushing. She’s not afraid of falling like this; as tired as she is, she always lands on her feet. Maybe unsteady and wobbly, but she does.

_Tomorrow is a new day…_

Hopefully, tomorrow will be better.

_**…** _

**_~:Taste, what a bittersweet:~_ **

Yang thought she knew what being broken felt like after Beacon fell and Blake left and she lost her arm.

That had hurt, no doubt about it, but she had managed to pick herself up again (mostly by herself, her dad and Zwei helped a bit too). She had done it because back then, she had hope- and sure, maybe it was silly to think about and say that _faith_ and _hope_ had kept her alive and pulled her to her feet, but they had.

Now, _faith_ and _hope_ had been the ones to knock her down.

She thought she knew what broken felt like, but it was _nothing_ to what she felt now. That had been mere child’s play in comparison. This was the real deal.

 _This_ was what being broken felt like.

The days and nights bleed together and the plates of uneaten food stack together and start to rot from where they were placed on the nightstand. Her body feels heavy, every inch of her weighing a ton and the amount of effort it takes to even open her eyes is monumental and the amount it takes to breathe is tiring. So tiring, she sometimes wonders if it’s worth the effort. She’s numb from being in one position for so long and Yang knows she’ll have bed sores but she doesn’t care.

She doesn’t care about a lot of things anymore. And a part of her is indignant like a whining child because physically, she was fine. The battle that night had been tough, sure, and she probably had a few new scars here and there, but other than that, she was _fine_. Nothing life-threatening or life-changing. All things considered, compared to a lot of other people, she was one of the lucky ones.

She was fine, alive, so she didn’t _deserve_ to mope around like this. She had _no right_ while other people were dying and fighting and pushing on and on and on.

Yang felt like slapping that child in the face because she didn’t care.

Ruby was gone. Probably dead and it honestly annoyed her that anybody was still looking because she was _dead_ and looking only gave her hope and hope had ultimately beat her heart to a pulp so badly she couldn’t bring herself to move and breathe most days.

When Ruby had left home after the Fall of Beacon in search of some answers, in search of people who needed help, at least Yang still had something to look forward to. She knew Ruby was alive and where she was going and who she was with, and she had wanted to protect her so she put herself back together and set out after her.

But now…

Now Ruby was nowhere to be found, falling off the face of Remnant altogether, and she was with Salem. The devil herself had taken Ruby. Yang didn’t know if she wanted to find out what happened to her because, honestly, she was scared of what she would find. The weeks mixed together and she didn’t know how long it truly took for her to actually get out of bed for once, to move and open a curtain and try. The look on Blake’s face when she had walked in on Yang standing by the window had been pricelessly funny and devastatingly heartbreaking at the same time because Blake looked so _relieved_ and _hopeful_.

So, Yang tried.

For Ruby. For Weiss. For Blake.

She thinks maybe she started trying for herself too, but mostly for Blake and Ruby and Weiss.

She’s impressed how well Blake has been _trying_ for this long without falling apart, all alone except for a surprisingly fierce Ren, and Yang feels like apologizing to her and thanking her because she gave up but Blake didn’t. But she’s trying now, and honestly, she doesn’t really know why she is or what urged her out of bed in the first place.

She does, though, eventually and slowly, and that’s all that matters.

At least Yang leaves her room now sometimes, and even if she spends that time sitting in one place anyway and staring at nothing, at least it’s outside with the chill of the air and the sunlight on her face instead of holed up in a dark room. Weiss always joins her, taking up the seat beside her without a word and copying her staring contest against the world and the memories and thoughts. Neither says a word to each other, but then again, Yang doesn’t think they need to.

The grief Weiss feels is as strong as the one Yang feels and it makes them kindred in a way. Weiss, at least, understands in her own way. So, Yang tries and Weiss tries and Blake never _stopped_ trying.

Yang sits at a dinner table, not really knowing how she got there in the first place and half-aware of everything around her as Blake moves around to serve both her and Weiss food because they sit motionless like statues anyway. The table is small, just enough for four people, and the empty chair sets a pang of hurt into her chest every time she chances a glance at it so she grips her fork and stares at that instead.

Blake is talking, trying to get some semblance of conversation going, but neither Weiss nor Yang are willing participants and Yang only feels even worse for making it so hard for her partner. Her brave and strong partner who was not giving up on any of them: not Ruby, not Weiss, not Yang. She’s aware of the bags underneath Blake’s eyes and the heaviness she moves with sometimes and knows Blake hasn’t gotten any rest because she’s been _trying_ this whole time.

A part of Yang wants to get her to stop, if only for a moment, but she knows how dangerous that could be. If Blake stopped now, any and all progress they made would have been for nothing.

So, Blake speaks for all three of them- all _four_ of them- about anything that came to mind. She steers clear of anything having to do with Grimm or fighting or the going on in the world and it’s an admirable effort because there’s very little else to talk about, but Blake finds a way.

The food in Yang’s mouth is tasteless. It’s some sort of chicken, maybe, or maybe it’s pork. She doesn’t know. She doesn’t care, and if it weren’t for the concern in Blake’s eyes every time Yang or Weiss go more than five minutes without putting a forkful of food in their mouth she wouldn’t eat it at all. But she does, for Blake. _For Blake._

Her eyes are drawn to the empty chair like a magnet pointed North and she curses at her own body for wanting to torture itself like this. That chair shouldn’t be empty. There, in that chair, should be a bouncing bubbly huntress in a red cloak with hair always askew and smile always bright. The food turns bitter in her mouth now and she feels like spitting it back out, but she swallows and almost chokes on it and takes a sip of what she thinks might be lemonade. It’s sweet and sharp.

Her eyes remain on the chair, and it takes her a second to realize that Weiss had been staring at it this whole time, her resistances even weaker than Yang’s. It takes a moment of complete silence for her to notice that Blake is looking at it as well, finally stopping her one-sided conversation.

The three of them are quiet. Deathly so.

 _Ruby is gone._ Yang feels the weight on her body again and she takes in a slow, deep breath to keep herself breathing because she would stop if she didn’t focus on it.

Her eyes close and her bleeding heart lets out a pitiful, mournful whine as she thinks about her sister. An image pops in her head of a time not so long ago, when they were all happy, healthy…

Together.

...

_**~:All my, all my life:~** _

She pictures it so clearly. Sometime during their time here in Atlas before everything went to shit and they first stuck close together; the first time they had dinner together, just the four of them.

They sat similar to how they sit now. The table is small and round and just enough for the four of them. The perfect size. Their family is small, but it is theirs.

Ruby and Yang are tossing- well, _trying_ to toss- food into each other’s mouths across the table, a boisterous laugh coming from Yang as the spoon of mashed potatoes that she had flipped quite stylishly landed on Ruby’s forehead instead of her mouth. Looks like she put too much power into it. The cloaked girl grimaced, letting out a whining groan of her name and Yang is too busy laughing to hear the scolding words coming from Weiss.

Ruby turns her head towards Weiss as her partner moved her chair closer, grabbing one of their napkins and gingerly tilting Ruby’s head her way to clean the mess up. Yang’s cheeks hurt from her smiling and her stomach hurts from her laughs. There’s a smile on Ruby’s face, eyes bright and shining as though their secret power had been activated just by Weiss’s touch alone.

Instinctively, Yang turns to look towards Blake, who's watching the others and generally everything going on with fond exasperation and a shake of her head. If Yang listened closely enough, she thinks she could hear Blake’s subtle purring, cat ears on her head relaxed and Yang is grateful because after everything they went through trying to get here to Atlas, at least now, they could finally relax. If only for tonight.

Blake’s eyes turn towards her and there’s a twinkle in them as the smile blossoms on her face and Yang feels breathless for another reason entirely.

She’s just about to say something when she feels something wet and slimy smash into her temple, no doubt getting in her hair, and Ruby’s sharp and victorious laugh echoes through the air. Yang grimaces, turning a faux glare toward her sister who is hiding her giggles behind a hand.

Yang gives a hearty declaration of war, wiping the potatoes on her face and flicking it back across the table, and just like that, Ruby and she are tossing things at each other even more fervently and Weiss and Blake could only scoot as far away as possible to avoid being caught in the crossfire. She hears Weiss scolding them, but there’s hardly any heat in her words, and she hears Blake laughing and that sends a victorious warmth throughout her body.

It’s a miracle they could laugh right now, considering everything that has happened, but at least they have this moment.

...At least, they _had_ that moment.

Yang blinks, and suddenly, she’s back in the present she doesn’t want to be in. There’s no laughter or chides or war cries or food fights. Instead, there’s silence.

There’s sorrow.

There’s pain.

Yang’s gaze blurs as she stares at the empty chair, and suddenly- there’s tears.

She doesn’t need to look at Blake or Weiss to know that they, too, are crying as well.

What Yang would give… to have just a _second_ of that moment back.

To have her sister here.

To hear laughter in place of cries and see fondness in eyes instead of pain.

She thinks she would give up everything. She thinks she would give up herself.

And it hurts knowing that, in reality, Ruby would not want them to sacrifice themselves for her. Her sister was too selfless like that, even if she was in pain or trouble or suffering. It hurts.

Yang doesn’t know why she started trying again, but she wonders if it’ll ever be worth it anymore.


	2. Chorus 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everybody who read the first part! I'm still getting used to this format, so bear with me if you find any mistakes and whatnot. Here's the next part, and as you can see, it is a whole lot longer as well. I'll admit, I may have gotten a little out of hand, but I had a lot of feelings while writing this out so... yeah. There's a buzzing in the air folks. Prepare yourselves. Hope you enjoy it!

**_~:Let me face, let me face, let me face my fears:~_ **

Everything happened so fast.

Everyone thought they were prepared for disaster ripping through their lives like tornadoes- thought they were used to it. Thought that no matter what, nothing could come along now to surprise them. Nothing could come now and ruin them because they were already ruined.

Funnily enough, _fittingly_ enough, it’s Raven who delivers the killing blow that finally gives everyone the chance to make like a phoenix and rise above the pain.

Yang hardly remembers how it happened- at the same time, she _remembers_ it in perfect detail.

One minute, she’s over here, _trying_ , and Weiss, too, is _trying_ and Blake is helping them stand to their feet while simultaneously searching and searching and searching nonstop for answers that never wanted to reveal themselves. Eventually, Yang and Weiss aren’t entirely useless anymore, helping to pitch in where they can, when they can, and Yang’s eyes hurt most days, not because of her constant crying, but because she has been reading and re-reading and re-reading again more books and texts and articles and fairytales than she ever thought anybody could read. She prefers it.

It gives them a loose sense of purpose, one that Yang realizes Blake has been clinging onto while she and Weiss allowed themselves to fall off the cliff so long ago. It’s healing, in a sick kind of way, even though they find nothing amongst the three of them. Well, six of them, because Yang and Weiss manage to piece themselves back together enough to stand around the same time that Jaune and Nora do too. Ren finally gets a moment to rest, taking an entire week to himself, and Yang insists Blake do the same but she stubbornly doesn’t.

As healing as this process is, of reading the same book so many times to see if they could find a new perspective and possible new answers, it’s equally as disheartening.

Just as they’re about to reach a dead end, because there’s even a limit to the seemingly infinite literature found in Atlas and graciously given to them by General Ironwood apparently, just as they’re also about to make Ozpin crack and finally give them answers, just as Yang feels like giving up again…

Raven shows up.

Bedraggled and tired and _terrified_ , she shows up.

It’s on a day like many others, the group mostly prepared for another long day of reading and researching ahead of them, except this time, they decide to do it outside. Though it’s still undoubtedly cold and snowy and bitter, the fresh air and new environment bring about a new burst of inspiration and determination.

Yang is about two seconds away from either tossing the book in her hands halfway across the courtyard or ripping it clean in half, she hasn’t decided yet, when Blake, at her side, suddenly stiffens, ears perking to attention, and looks both so confused and on edge, it makes Yang equally confused and on edge and she doesn’t even know what the problem is at all. She’s about to say as such before she hears it too, a ripping in space and the echoes of a realm not quite their own.

The familiar red portal opens and out steps Raven and Yang... doesn’t entirely know how to feel so she just stares instead. All of them do. Surrounding Atlesian soldiers that were always lounging about immediately called out to them, grabbing their weapons and charging forward like they could honestly hope to compare to a seasoned huntress, let alone a maiden. (Though, to be fair, only Yang knows about her mother’s maiden powers.)

Raven doesn’t even look at anybody else, red eyes focused solely on Yang. Everybody else might as well be invisible.

And she says nothing, hesitating for a moment before extending her hand out towards Yang in a silent invitation, an unsaid plea to follow her. Yang briefly wonders where the Grimm Mask had gone, unsure of what it meant now that Raven wasn’t hiding behind it.

“Yang,” Raven finally speaks after a long moment of silence and nonmovement, a moment frozen in time. The guards are coming ever closer, soldiers demanding to know who she was and asking them with all the books to step away from the intruder. Raven ignores them, and so does Yang. “Come with me. You have to see something.”

There’s an urgency in her voice, strained and reluctant but determined and accepting. Like she doesn’t _want_ to show whatever it was, but it is important enough to go against whatever she wanted and for a moment, Yang wonders what it could possibly be, how important this could possibly be, to make someone as selfish as Raven comply. 

Yang remains sitting, staring at the outstretched hand of her mother. For a brief second, she doesn’t know why she thinks about how much she always wanted Raven to do that- extend a hand in her direction, asking for her to come with her, to be with her, so they would never part. It’s a little surreal and it throws her for a loop long enough for the others to crowd closer to her, ever protective and suspicious and Blake looks about a second away from grabbing Gambol Shroud from where it sits on the ground.

Weiss is glaring and Jaune and Nora and Ren are glaring too- Blake seems to be the only one who doesn’t entirely know who this woman is, had never seen Yang’s mother before, but she picks up on the general mood of distrust towards her and reaches a hand to Yang’s wrist, curling gentle yet urgent fingers around her and that's when Yang flinches to attention.

Raven is still standing patiently- which is surprising, to say the least. The soldiers are coming closer and closer, weapons drawn and aimed directly at the woman in red and black and the strange pulsing portal behind her. Their guns glow with energy and one of them reaches for their cuffs, another reaching for some sort of communication device to no doubt warn Ironwood and everybody else of a strange intruder with portals.

“Yang,” Raven says her name again, and this time, it is a bit more stern, annoyed even, yet still holding that desperation from before. Her eyes narrow and she definitely looks more annoyed now, eyes darting for a moment between the rest of them and her outstretched hand falls away, going to rest lightly on where her weapon is and that just makes everybody bristle even more. “I’m not here to hurt you just… Come with me?”

“Why?” Yang speaks through the clog in her throat, her voice croaky before she clears it and sits up straighter, the book she had been debating on finds a place on the ground beside her. Raven looks between them all and finally back at her again, eyes narrowing and she just gives a small shake of her head.

“It's important.”

“That's not a-”

“Ruby.”

Yang feels her entire being seize up at that name coming from Raven’s mouth, a gasp flying from her lips and she flinches again before she is suddenly scrambling to her feet so quickly nobody could really react. Nobody but Blake, who gives her a small tug, just enough to get Yang to look back at her.

It’s obvious Blake doesn’t trust Raven, and that’s fine because neither does Yang.

But she has to know, has to see for herself. They communicate just as much with their eyes alone and Blake’s ears flatten before she reluctantly lets go of Yang’s wrist and Yang jumps to her feet, stepping over the others until she’s right in front of Raven and the soldiers shout at her to get away. She ignores them.

“You better be telling the truth,” her aura flares and she knows without having to look at herself that her eyes are just as red as Raven’s. She used to hate and love that about her semblance- how the only connection she ever had to her mother was the color of her anger and pain. “Or I swear on _everything_ -”

She doesn’t finish her sentence, her threat. She doesn’t really need to and Raven just gives a nod of her head and that has to be enough of a promise before her mother is suddenly turning her back on her and walking towards the portal. Yang quickly follows suit, not wanting for this all to be a sick joke where the portal closes before she can reach it and all of her hope has been built up again for absolutely nothing.

She doesn’t look back at the others as the world vanishes, stretching and closing in on itself, and fades from red to white and back to red again as she walks through the strange world that is the portal realm of her mother’s semblance. Her eyes remain burning holes in the back of Raven’s head until the shifting colors are too much for her to handle and she has to close them.

Suddenly, the air isn’t cold anymore. It’s stale and it doesn’t feel like there’s enough of it at all.

When she opens her eyes again, they widen and she instinctively readies her gauntlets at what she sees before her.

A land of never-ending darkness, the sky tinged with haunting shades of black and red. Deep, purple crystals scatter the grounds with an ominous glow, the shattered moon in the sky even though Yang knew for a fact it was only early morning. In the distance and maybe even nearby, she hears the cries of Grimm- some familiar to her like the call of Nevermores and others she never heard before. At the end of the cliff they find themselves on, Yang thinks she can see the shape of Beowolves idly wandering around.

“What…” Yang breathes out, making a slow circle until she whirls in the direction where Raven still stands, clearly uncomfortable and on edge and her hand clutches at her blade, wound so tightly she could snap at any moment. It only takes a once-over for Yang to realize that Raven is _scared_. Horrified, even, and red eyes constantly dart around and her portal lingers with a flickering light that could open again immediately should she want to. Yang swallows thickly before finishing her question, “What _is_ this place?”

“Hell itself, I say,” Raven mutters, teeth clenched and Yang could see just a spark of that maiden fire threatening to blaze, feeding off of her fear. “Salem’s realm. Where all the Grimm are born.”

“How did you find this place?” Yang turns towards her, suddenly suspicious. Eyes turned violet from momentary fear flash red once again, accusatory. “How long have you known about this?”

Raven takes a moment longer in silence and that’s enough of an answer for Yang as any. She scowls even before Raven speaks up.

“The entire time,” Raven mutters beneath her breath, reluctant and apologetic, and Yang’s scowl deepens in something like disgust. Her mother turns meek then, one hand going to grip at her wrist and her head bows, chin tucking towards her chest, and Yang turns away before the very sight of it turns her stomach. Her fingers clench bruisingly, eyes surveying the land once more and she struggles to draw in a single breath.

This place truly was terrifying.

“Yang, I’m sorry-” Raven speaks up behind her, and were she to turn to look at her- which she can’t- she would see her mother reaching towards her with a quivering hand.

“ _Just_ -” Yang snaps and stops herself, taking in a deep breath and counting to five in her head before releasing all of the burning air within her lungs, a breathing exercise that Blake often did to calm her nerves and Yang had unintentionally picked up to calm her temper. The ends of her golden mane flicker with yellow embers, threatening to combust and burn anything within reach (aka, Raven). She doesn’t turn around to look at Raven, doesn’t think she _can_ right now. “Where is she?”

Raven remains silent for a moment long enough for Yang to feel her mother’s red eyes on her back, despondent and sad and guilty and it’s terrible, horrible things Raven deserves to feel- but she doesn’t want to get into that right now. Yang narrows her eyes as she stares down the hill, Beowolves and some type of lanky, cat-like Grimm she had never seen before snarling and hissing back-and-forth with each other, almost as if they were communicating. The wolves are looking around, nose in the air, and Yang knew it would only be a matter of time before they spotted her and Raven.

“Look past the crystal mountain,” Raven steps up beside her, leaning much too close for Yang’s liking but she allows it, following Raven’s finger as she points where she should be looking. Yang narrows her eyes, squinting in that direction. Deep purple and midnight black crystals glow ominously in the distance, pulsing as if with a heartbeat, and they stab into the air, arching towards each other and ramming into one another as if holding claws instead of fingers. Yang squints further, taking half a step closer towards the decline of the hill they stood on, and leans forward.

It’s difficult to see, past the archway like the opening of a gate, welcoming travelers into a cemetery. Pools of black and a ground of red pave the way towards what looks like a castle or a fortress in the distance. It’s made of grey stone, veins of black inching upward like vines and sucking the color from the rocks. Between them and it was a field of those black pools and an endless amount of Grimm wandering around.

“That’s Salem’s Castle,” Raven says on her next breath, her hand dropping to her side as she takes a respectful step away from Yang, still hovering close enough though. She shifts in place and Yang feels a spark of either annoyance or bitter acceptance to realize that _that_ is something she always does too, when nervous: shifting her weight between her legs. Just one more thing Raven and she shared in that short list that really should’ve been much longer. “My best guess is that she should be there.”

“Alright,” Yang nods slowly, mind racing as she turned calculating eyes to every inch from the cliffside they were on to the castle, through the valley of dangers and the dead. Thinking of every possible way inside. “Then, we go in and get her.”

“It’s not that simple-”

“It _is_ that simple,” Yang turns sharply to Raven, eyes narrowed, and the embers lick up halfway through her hair, the ends burning brighter with a white-hot heat. “We could have gotten her sooner if you just _told_ us you knew.”

“Think clearly, Yang,” Raven stands up straighter, shoulders squaring and Yang found slight joy and victory at the fact that she could look her mother directly in the eye instead of having to tilt her head back. “What would Salem want with Ruby?”

“How am I supposed to know what a devil thinks?” Yang scoffs, crossing her arms, “Maybe she saw Ruby as a threat or something- whatever the case, I have to _get her out of there_.”

Raven let out a small sigh, shaking her head, and it made Yang bristle even more. Maybe Raven didn’t intend for it to be condescending, but that’s what it felt like. “It’s been months already-”

“Half a year,” Yang narrows her eyes, fingers curling tightly, “six and a half months, 197 days since Ruby was taken.”

“I just don’t think you’re prepared to face whatever is in that place,” Raven frowns, and the tension in her face drops into a soft expression that has no right to be as effective as it was. Her voice, too, drops in volume to a small murmur. “For whatever Salem has done to her.”

“Let me say this slowly so you finally understand me,” Yang steps closer, a few stray embers wisping past her face and fluttering in the air for a heartbeat before vanishing. “I. Don’t. Care. I don’t care what you think, and I don’t care what Salem did or did not do- _nothing_ in this fucking world is going to stop me from getting my sister back.”

Raven blinks at her, startled for a moment before the soft expression on her face only grows softer. There’s a shine in her eyes, something like respect or something like wistfulness. _Look at me now_ , Yang wants to say but bites her tongue instead, burning red eyes narrowing as she unyieldingly stares her mother down. Her resolve would not break.

_Look at me now, mom._

_I’ve grown up._

Raven looks at her, stares deep into her soul, and as startling as it is for her mother of all people to be doing it, Yang allows entry to the dredges of her determination. _Are you sure?_ Her mother’s question goes unsaid by words but was spoken in volumes by the pinched brow and the drooping corners of her eyes. _Are you prepared for the worst?_

Yang swallows, fire burning within her throat and at the pit of her stomach and she feels like- if for a moment- the dragon she was named for, one that encompasses the sun with a breath of flames begging for release. Her eyes narrow, and they say _I’m sure._

_I’m ready._

Raven lets out another heavy sigh and her shoulders drop with the weight of the world, bones brittle and creaking with the threat to break. In response, Yang holds her shoulders squared, head held just the slightest bit higher. There’s a weight on her shoulders too, but she will not crumble. She already had once, and it was only because of Blake and Weiss and her desire to save Ruby that kept her from being crushed altogether.

She will not fall again.

“Are you still scared, Yang?” Raven asks, pulling away from their close proximity for a moment to breathe, turning away from the cliffside and Salem’s Castle and wandering back over to the remnants of her lingering portal. Yang watches her move away before turning back in the direction of the castle, her next target.

“No,” Yang says, heat lingering on her breath like the embers that flicker in her hair. “I’m angry now. Kinda hard to be scared when you’re pissed off.”

Raven lets out a small snort at her words, a bitter smile to her lips, but there is a look of pride that Yang doesn’t see because her back is turned.

“Fair enough.”

“Are _you_ scared?” Yang redirects the question over her shoulder, turning her head slightly but not taking her eyes away from the castle. The screech of a distant monster pricks at her nerves and a shiver rolls down her spine like a slow-sliding ooze. 

Raven remains quiet for a moment longer, thoughtful, before she responds with the unfortunate, “I will always be scared.” And she’s silent for a moment even longer than the last before adding, in a quieter voice, “but my fear is different now.”

Yang didn’t know what she had been expecting, and some part of her is satisfied with that while another is still disappointed.

“We should leave,” Raven says in a louder voice, more firm and less vulnerable, and the moment is over. Yang turns halfway to face her, one foot catching against the crystal ground beneath her and making her body give a slight jerk. Half of her is still dead set on sprinting across the entire place and storming the castle then and there, lurching like she has been hooked on a string and its tugging tugging _tugging_ her in that direction.

“But… Ruby-”

“Surely you’re aware of how out of our league we are here,” Raven speaks over her shoulder, turning a slow gaze towards the sky and looking off into the horizon, jumpy and on-edge as ever. “This isn’t something you can do on a whim. If you really are planning to bring the fight to Salem’s home turf, then you’re going to need a plan that isn’t half-assed by any means.”

Yang scoffs but doesn’t say anything else, turning a scowl in the castle’s direction once more before slowly, regretfully, turning away from it and taking quaking steps to her mother. Her bones feel like they’re about to pop and her joints feel rough, her entire body fighting against the idea of just leaving _now_ after coming so close after months of _nothing_. 

“This isn’t a game,” Raven turns to look at her and Yang is a bit startled by the intensity and the desperation in those eyes yet again. “What you faced in Atlas will be nothing compared to what’s waiting for you in that valley and the castle. No, you and your little band of misfits aren’t going to cut it anymore. You’re good but reckless and it’s a miracle all of you are still alive at this point.”

“I think that really says something about the world that we’re the only ones trying to do anything then,” Yang crosses her arms, raising a challenging brow and her jaw clenches as well. Raven, realizing this, backs off a bit and raises a pacifying hand.

“What I mean to say is, you’re going to need _more_.” Raven shifts the weight in her legs again, glancing away and shrugging. “More manpower, more weapons, more numbers. An army, Yang. You need an army, and I don’t mean Atlesian soldiers and their bots. They’re good at keeping order, mostly, but not fighting Grimm. You need an army of huntsmen and huntresses.”

“Sure, let me just pull an army out of my ass,” Yang rolls her eyes and lets out a huff, “Where am I going to get an army?”

“Talk to James,” Raven clenches and unclenches her fingers from around the hilt of her weapon, a method of comfort. “Talk to Oz, and talk to Qrow. Gather the rest of your team as well- I’m sure you all have connections somewhere. Come up with a plan… and brace for impact.”

Yang soaks up her mother’s words, nodding slowly and putting a hand to her chin in thought. It would be difficult, but not impossible, she supposed. With Ironwood’s backing and Qrow’s connections and Ozpin’s leading (and Oscar’s optimism), they could even scrounge together the rest of the academies. Having the Atlesian army at their back as well wouldn’t hurt, and who knows, maybe Blake could have members of the White Fang join the fight.

_This could work._

“Will you be there to fight with us?” Yang couldn’t help but ask, moving forward towards the flicker of the portal that Raven had yet to open up again. “When the time comes?”

Raven watches after her for a tense moment of silence before letting out a sigh, shifting her weight again and glancing off to the side. “We’ll see.”

“I don’t think I can forgive you for withholding this information,” Yang throws her arms out, indicating to the entire realm they were in before dropping her hands and letting out a sigh through her teeth, glancing away almost bashfully. “But… I would appreciate it if you were there.”

“Like I said,” Raven steps forward then, and in one smooth and practiced movement, slashes Omen and tears open space once more, her portal coming to life. Yang thinks it's only possible to get back without Raven having that connection to someone because she never fully closed the portal, always having it linger in place. 

Raven waves a hand, presenting Yang’s ticket back to her team, and mutters softly, repeats, “We’ll see.”

And it’s so little, a small amount of the reassurance Yang needs, that deep down she craves from her mother, but for now…

For now, it was going to have to be enough.

With a tentative nod, Yang sends a final glance over the cliff, across the valley, and pass the mass of Grimm pools and scarlet stone towards the grey and black castle in the distance.

_Hold on_ , she thinks, pleads, and her eyes soften and blink back from red to purple. _Just a little longer, Ruby._

_We’re gonna save you soon._

“You won’t come back with me?” Yang turns fully to face the portal, a step away from entering, and only stops to address Raven one more time. A part of her heart feels like it’s tearing in two, and she knew without a shadow of a doubt that now- now that she has stepped into this realm, Hell itself, where the devil was keeping her sister… a part of her was going to remain here forever.

“I need time to think,” Raven responds in a quiet voice, eyes guarded and it feels like Yang’s losing her once again and she tries desperately to fight back the instinctual panic that comes with knowing her mother was going to walk away (again). But then, then Raven’s eyes clear up, turn to face her head-on, and there’s a twitch of a smile at the corner of her lips as she says, “I’ll see you in three days. Make sure you have some semblance of a plan by then.”

“Three days,” Yang breathes out and gives a firm nod, turning towards the portal and staring into the abyss of its open maw. With a deep breath of acrid air, she takes a step forward, one, two, and right before she is to vanish back to Atlas, she says over her shoulder, “See you soon, mom.”

And then she’s gone, disappearing from the red realm and being pulled and pushed apart by the portal world, shifting from one place to the next in the blink of an eye.

Her next inhale comes in with the sharp twinge of the winter frost that holds a death grip over the tundra of Atlas. Yang stumbles forward, the wisps and flares from her mother’s portal sticking to her skin and cradling her in a way Raven never did. She blinks against the change in light, Salem’s realm a permanent dark that made her almost forget what the sun looked like.

“Yang!” Someone suddenly places their hand on her arm and she instinctively jumps, nerves still on edge from the entire experience and she’s about to break away from the hold and go into a defensive stance and- oh. 

It’s Blake. 

Her partner stands in front of her with the sun outlining her figure and Yang thinks that this is what an angel looks like, except her eyes are concerned and there’s a spark of panic within them that has been threatening to flare into an all-consuming inferno for who knows how long Yang had been gone.

Yang hardly realizes that Blake is the only one there, all the books and everybody else gone, but they were still in the courtyard as before.

“Are you okay?” Blake begins to fuss, the roaring of Raven’s portal silencing like a slow-dying beast behind her until there’s a quiet that Yang doesn’t quite know if it’s comforting or alarming. She’s almost too afraid to breathe too loudly, but Blake is the first to break the quiet when Yang doesn’t immediately answer and begins to grow more concerned. “Are you hurt? What happened? Did she do something to you, because if she did I swear I will-”

And Yang doesn’t really mean to, but the sight of Blake getting worked up on her behalf and the genuine worry she has for her and the relief at the realization that _oh shit, I know where Ruby is_ catches up to her and she lets out a startled laugh. It takes the shape of a laugh for all of a heartbeat as it twists into a weird amalgamation of a laugh and a sob and she can’t tell which one she’s trying to do. Tears spring to her eyes, and for the first time in what feels like a lifetime, they’re not sorrowful.

These are tears of joy, and she’s just so fucking happy and even though Blake looks at her so very confused and mildly concerned, Yang continues laugh-sobbing for a good five seconds, bubbles of relief bursting within her soul, and it’s startling to be just… so _happy_ after so long of feeling nothing but apathy and sorrow. It’s overwhelming if she was being honest, and she buzzes with a new kind of energy. 

Energy that she _has_ to release or else she thinks she might actually explode.

So, she does the only thing she can think of doing, and Blake lets out an adorable squeal of surprise as Yang suddenly lifts her into the air, arms circling her waist and hands holding her securely around her thighs and Yang does a few spins. Blake’s hands immediately seize a hold on Yang’s shoulders, eyes startled and ears perked up in mild alarm, but there must be something in Yang’s smile that’s contagious because, despite all of her confusion and astonishment and worry, Blake smiles back.

Yang feels like she’s on top of the world, close enough to the sky for her to touch; but, she thinks, she’s already holding a star so she doesn’t need to reach for the heavens.

Howewer, as nice as this is, Yang seems to miscalculate just how slippery snow could actually be across a slick stone surface. So, in all her grace- of course- she trips and, suddenly, she’s falling and Blake lets out another surprised sound but Yang immediately moves to cradle her partner and angle her own body in a way so Blake wouldn’t get hurt.

She trips and falls and yes it hurts and she thinks she will probably most definitely be feeling that later on, but Yang can’t entirely bring herself to care as Blake’s weight settles on top of her, warm and steady and she doesn’t know if the pounding heartbeat she feels is her own or Blake’s. But she doesn’t care, she doesn’t care because she’s just so happy!

Her shoulders and the rest of her body begins to shake with the remnants of her laughter, head laying against the cold ground beneath her, and her aura flares and begins to melt away the slick ice around them. Blake moves slightly and manages to lift herself up, at least her upper body, and there’s a small part of Yang that immediately misses the contact. When she opens her eyes to look, however, she finds that she doesn’t entirely mind because at least now she can have a better look at Blake’s face.

Her partner shakes her head slightly, a fondness to her eyes that Yang hasn’t seen in a while and she finds that she missed that too. It brings her, if only for a second, to a simpler time where they were all together and they could be silly and stupid and not think about the end of the world and the role they had to play in order to stop it.

Before that ache could linger, it’s replaced with determination and her laughter comes to a slow stop as she returns the fond look with one of her own. Her cheeks ache from having smiled for an extended period of time after so long of not smiling. 

“You want to explain what that was?” Blake asks, and though her voice is primarily teasing, there is a lingering hint of worry in it- reluctance, almost, and Yang thinks Blake is scared to ask her questions or even talk because something she could say could take away Yang’s apparently happy mood. And Yang wants to ease her worries because _nothing_ Blake could do would take this feeling away.

Yang remains quiet for a few seconds longer, letting the question hang in the air, third-wheeling this moment awkwardly as she slowly comes to awareness of their position. Blake laid out atop her, legs intertwined and her partner's arms pressed against her body so Blake could hold herself up to look down at her. Slowly, cautiously, Yang’s hands find a place on Blake’s hips and maybe they don’t fit perfectly- because nothing about them is perfect- but they fit like they belong there and it’s enough for her (she hopes it's enough for Blake too). 

The seconds' tick to a minute and Yang just about forgets the question entirely, looking into her partner’s eyes and seeing such raw emotions in them. Blake may be a naturally guarded person, but her eyes were so expressive, and when she cared, she _cared_. You could see it as clearly as a dying sunset and the rising of a new dawn.

“I know where she is,” Yang says after a while longer, not truly knowing how much time has passed but she thinks it can’t have been more than a few minutes at most. The smile that stretches across her face is nervous, and she can’t help but whisper, fearful, as if saying her name would make all of this a dream and she would wake up tomorrow more heartbroken than ever, “Ruby. I know where she is.”

“What?...” Blake breaths out and the ease present in her eyes flashes to a mixture of emotions that Yang can’t quite place all of them. Surprise, fear even, confusion, disbelief, and the most present of them all… hope. Blake’s fingers curl slightly into her as if she needed an anchor to this world and Yang draws in a breath, at her partner’s mercy to be whatever Blake needed her to be. “A-Are you sure?”

“I didn’t _see_ her,” Yang mumbles, fingers playing with the belt on Blake’s coat. “But I’m positive I know where she’s being kept, at least. I could be wrong but… it’s our only lead, really.” Yang pauses and gives a slight grimace, suddenly turning sheepish as she speaks, “And, uhh… The only way to get there would be through a valley of Grimm and one hell of a fight.”

“We fight Grimm all the time,” Blake points out with a raised brow, “what makes this so different?”

“...It’s Salem’s world,” Yang finally decides to say, because withholding anything was pointless and dangerous- she had learned. “Dunno how Raven found it and I’m not about to get into that with her but… We can get there. Somehow. It’s where all the Grimm are born or made or whatever. And there’s a castle there so I’m assuming that’s where Salem is… and that’s where Ruby is.”

“So, we have to storm a castle to save a princess,” her partner mutters, a small joke and Yang can’t help but let out a laugh, all things considered. Blake smiles softly in appreciation, and if Yang laughing could get her to smile like that, then Yang would laugh all the time. Blake nods after a moment, “Alright. Alright, we can do this. We’ll bring the fight to her, all of us.”

“Speaking of, where’d everyone go?”

“You were gone for a while,” Blake’s ears flatten, expressive as ever they were, and she glances off to the side somewhat nervously. “They went to go talk to Ironwood about what happened before everyone could panic even more. And also, to put the books away. I… I stayed behind to wait for you.”

“Thanks,” Yang can’t help but reach up, tucking a strand of Blake’s shorter hair behind her ear. Her fingers linger against her skin, her cheek, and jaw. “For waiting.”

A slight coloring appears on Blake’s cheeks that Yang enjoys before her hand falls away. On her next breath, Blake whispers like a prayer, “Of course. I’ll always wait for you.”

And she knows, _she knows_ , there’s a double meaning to those words. To her own words, too. Yang felt as though she had been gone for so, so long and now she’s finally returning to herself. Finally returning to Blake, who remained there and _waited_ for everyone to come back to her, vowing to be there for them when they were ready.

Yang feels like kissing her, had wanted to for so long, but this wasn’t the right time. No, not yet. Later.

“Now,” Yang grins a grin full of teeth, shining and bright and confident, “let’s go save my sister.”

Blake gives her own smile, softer and smaller but no less real, before shifting away, sitting back against her legs and providing room for Yang to sit up as well. Doing just that, Yang and Blake are close, too close yet still so far from each other. They nearly lean into each other, Blake on her knees and Yang bending her own legs slightly to cradle around her partner. Her fingers twitch with the desire to reach out to her, to pull Blake forward and close that distance but she clenches her hands instead and waits for space to stand.

As Blake shifts onto her heels to stand up, she reaches a hand out for Yang, and when Yang accepts it- because she always would- it’s almost as though they’re both pulling each other to their feet. Once standing, Blake doesn’t let go of her hand and Yang makes no effort to do so either.

“Together?” Blake asks quietly, looking so vulnerable Yang wants to reach out and hold her. Instead, Yang laces their fingers together, slipping hers in the spaces of Blake’s and pressing their palms together. Yang likes to think they could feel each other's heartbeats.

“There’s no other way,” Yang responds, giving her head a gentle tilt and smiling. Blake lets out a small breath, maybe of relief, and gives a shy grin in return. Yang wants this moment to last, but… it couldn’t. They had to get going.

Ruby was waiting for them.

And now Yang knew where she was.

With her soul resonating a peaceful melody after so long of playing a mournful song, Yang takes in a deep breath of the frosty air and relishes in the feeling of a new beginning. Giving Blake a gentle tug, Yang begins to lead them where she knows Ironwood must have been in his quarters, hiding away from the rest of the world and paranoid as ever. Qrow and Oscar would be there and it would be knocking all of the birds out of the sky with a single stone.

“Now, let’s go get an army,” Yang pumps her free hand into the air, fist curled tightly and ready for the fight of her life.

Blake just squawks out a confused, “Wait, _what_?”

Everything was happening so fast, change was swirling through their lives like a tornado with razor winds tearing them to shreds, but at least now, Yang didn’t feel like she was falling apart.

She was ready for anything and everything Salem had to throw at them. But most of all…

She was ready to get Ruby back.

**_…_ **

**_~:Oh, let me face, let me face, let me face my fears:~_ **

It was mostly Blake’s idea to have all of their allies and the army they had amassed to gather in Menagerie.

It had taken the better part of a week convincing Ironwood of this final battle and to get him to spread the message and rally the troops. Even more still for them to actually start arriving. Raven had shown up in intermittent moments at a time, leaving and appearing at random that it often gave Yang and everybody else whiplash. She had yet to promise that she would join the fight, but at the very least, she did promise a means of getting there.

That had to count for something.

A sense of apprehension and grim determination had enveloped over her and her friends and everybody else like a noxious cloud, poisoning deep within their lungs. Where it should have been crippling, however, it only served to ignite the flame burning within Yang’s lungs brighter and brighter, hotter and hotter.

So, here she was, awaiting the hour until Raven was due to arrive, on a rocky cliff watching over the beaches of Menagerie and the mass of huntsmen and huntresses all waiting. For what little time they had, Yang was quite proud of how many people they had managed to gather. The beach was crawling with them. People from all over the world; warriors of all ages, young and old.

Some were gathered around bonfires, recounting stories of their greatest hunts. The younger were taunting and jabbing at each other, a few pretending to spar and some had even begun to sing a war song in a jaunty tune. Most people were sharpening their weapons, counting their ammo, their dust. Men and women compared weapons, scars, battles, experiences, semblances. Residents of Vacuo and Atlas compared the extreme weathers of their home, their love-hate relationship and the deep respect they had for the deserts of sand and ice respectively. Faunus and Humans mingled with each other, food and water being passed all around and even a group on the farther edge passing around a blunt. A few were drinking what definitely wasn’t water, while others only held their cups in their hands and stared with silence into space.

Her own friends stuck close together, for the most part; Nora launching off into some story of a dream or another and Ren passively correcting her each time she became too ostentatious with the truth, their hands linked together by the fire. Jaune was the only one truly wandering around, respectfully speaking with people and generally trying his best to lift the mood of those who looked more terrified than excited. Weiss was apparently telling her own story to a group who would listen, though she was too far away for Yang to guess as to what she was saying.

And Blake…

“Hey.” Yang’s eyes turn from her perch overhead of the others off to the side. Blake was walking up the hill, arms curled against her midsection to stave off the chill of the night by the ocean. A gentle smile was to her lips, a questioning look to her eyes. “Here you are.”

_Why are you here?_ Her eyes questioned even when her voice didn’t. _Alone._

“Here I am,” Yang breathes out a quiet laugh, arms crossed over herself from her surveying and she squints out into the darkness and fires. “Waiting.”

Raven had said she would be here, on this cliff, when the shattered moon appeared full for once and sat in the center of the sky. The night was dragging on and Yang couldn’t deny feeling just a little bit nervous the longer time passed without her mother’s presence. A sick, twisted part of her that had been scorned one too many times by Raven was half-convinced this was still a joke and her mother wouldn’t show at all.

“Mind if I join you?” Blake stops an arm’s length away, her head giving a slight tilt. She’s respectful, and Yang doesn’t quite know why her partner thinks Yang _wouldn’t_ want her around. But now with all this energy and building anticipation lately, there is an all _new_ kind of energy and anticipation that has been buzzing between the two of them- something that has always been there but now had the chance to bloom.

If she’s being honest, it scares Yang. Mind you, she’s not scared to admit she has feelings for Blake, has _had_ them for quite a while, but she _is_ scared of… of…

She’s not entirely sure. Maybe she’s just scared of messing it up because everything she does is imperfect and everybody in her life is ruined in some way, shape, or form and she's starting to think it’s partially her fault. Raven left and she keeps leaving. Summer left and she never returned. Ruby was taken away and is going through who knows what. 

Blake left and…

_And she came back_.

_Here she is._

_Right here._

“Yang?” Blake speaks up again and there’s just a tint of nervousness in her voice that immediately startles Yang to do something. Apparently, she was quiet for too long.

She looks to her partner, reaching one hand out towards Blake and moving halfway to face her better- attention shifting from the army of friends and allies to the one who terrifies and excites her most. Blake looks down at the offered hand, an expression passing across her face that Yang can’t quite place down, and for a handful of seconds, she makes no move to immediately reach out to accept it. 

The world falls away around them, the universe holds its breath and so does Yang. She feels her heart skip a terrifying beat and her hand begins to quiver and the moment crawls so long that she’s just about to retract the offer and brush it off as nothing when Blake’s fingers finally slip into hers.

She inhales the salty scent of the ocean that makes her feel awake and alive and reckless and pulls Blake closer closer closer until their foreheads give a gentle bump against each other. It draws a breathless gasp from her partner’s lips and the proximity is dangerous for Yang’s sense of thinking but she still holds Blake close by the hand. Her boldness had only lasted long enough to do this and now her arms hang loosely at her sides, too scared to move, not entirely sure how to move on from here.

Their eyes meet and Yang feels dizzy. And she feels like she must just fall off her feet when Blake gives a soft smile, one that sends a pang through Yang’s heart, and her amber eyes give a slight squint, half-lidded and lazy and content, before grabbing Yang’s free hand and moving it to her waist without a word. Yang is half-aware of wrapping her arm around Blake, her eyes falling shut when Blake’s free hand moves up to cup the side of her face, thumb drawing a gentle line against her tensed jaw. 

Yang lets out a shuddering sigh that is reflected by the pleasant shiver she feels against Blake’s body.

The world vanishes from her senses and they’re in their own little bubble. Their own little bubble of warmth and promises kept and vows made. Their own little bubble of safety and security and promises promises _promises_ (and love and love and _love_ ). Their own little bubble where Yang feels recklessly honest and unafraid to hide the truth and the truth is-

_I love you_ -

“I’m scared.”

For a second, Yang’s not entirely sure who speaks, but she feels her lips moving so she guesses it must be her that’s whispering. The muscles in her face twitch into a slight grimace at the admittance- in disappointment because those weren’t exactly the words she wanted to say- and she peeks open her eyes, terrified of what she would find on Blake’s face. It’s the scariest thing of all- those gold eyes full of fondness and naked adoration and love love _love_ and the power they have over Yang. One blink and Yang feels like dropping to her knees, one long stare and her spirit has left her body.

It frightens her and it thrills her and she can’t get enough of it and it’s entirely too much, the way Blake looks at her.

And it _scares_ her, knowing that anything, _anything_ could happen tonight and maybe, just maybe, those eyes will never open again and Blake will be gone gone gone just like before- except this time, she would never come back and Yang doesn’t think she can get her heart to beat its next rhythm if that were to be the case.

Because her heart was Blake’s- it belonged to her now even if Blake didn’t know it and Yang was half-aware of it- and should Blake fall in battle, so too would Yang’s fragile, bleeding heart.

Blake doesn’t say anything to her, just stares that achingly soft stare of hers that all but brings Yang to tears thinking that it could be gone forever by the end of the night. It implores her to explain, to talk some more, and blab her lips before it could all be over.

And there are a million words and thousands of confessions sitting there at the tip of her tongue like it was a diving board and they were prepared to spring off into the open air, free from its cage and the restrains and chains of her cowardice, but for all she has to say, all she _wants_ to say, Yang can barely speak and it fucking frustrates her to no end.

“I can’t… I-” Yang flounders for language and Blake just continues to stare at her, a sense of understanding dawning in her eyes and Yang thinks Blake _knows_ \- _she knows_ \- what Yang is trying to say and failing at but still. Still, Yang wants to say them and she can’t fucking speak and the world might be ending soon and one of them might die or they might fail or Raven might not show up or or or- “ _Fuck_.”

She thinks she feels the sting of frustrated tears in the corner of her eyes, the fingers drawing gentle lines against her tightened jaw shifting upward so Blake could wipe them away before they could fall.

“It’s okay,” Blake murmurs in a gentle, smooth voice that makes Yang’s knees shake with the effort to keep herself standing. A gentle, smooth voice that has the power to destroy Yang and pick up the pieces all at once. “I know, Yang. _I know_.”

And in the breath of a whisper, Blake says the words that kill her-

“I’m scared too.”

-and Yang has never felt more alive, rising from the ashes and shadows with a fresh fire flaring.

The admittance knocks the air out of her and Yang feels like she’s choking but she pushes on and forces her mouth to form the words, “I can’t lose you.”

They are tragedy given a voice, her tongue heavy as they formulate those four little words like this was an entirely new language, and she, a first-year student struggling to speak. (It damn well feels like it: _honesty_ added to the dialects she knew and making her bi-lingual.) Yang presses closer to Blake even if there is no space between them already, noses bumping, and _oh_ what it would take to tilt her head just-so and let their lips brush. (It would take next to nothing at all.)

(But she doesn’t, cause she’s a coward.)

(So in a way, it takes everything and she wants to give it all away but she’s scared because- )

“ _I can’t lose you_ ,” her voice is raw and it hurts and she has never felt so exposed before and her eyes squeeze shut because she’s even more scared of what would become of the look in her partner’s eyes. She might as well have just torn her heart straight from the chest and presented it by palm, saying _here’s my heart, please be gentle_ ( _but you can do whatever you want with it_ ). Her fingers dig into the fabric of Blake’s coat, clinging madly with the desperation of someone about to fall off the cliff and into the void.

Blake draws in a deep breath, ragged and worn and Yang thinks she hears a hitch in there somewhere, an imperfection, and it’s almost embarrassing how much she relishes this moment of Blake simply breathing.

(She’s scared to think that it may stop, those calming breaths, and the thought damn near drives her mad, and oh Gods she’s scared and she’s scared and she’s scared-)

“I can’t lose you either, Yang,” Blake whispers something broken and Yang almost finds it funny. (So funny, it’s sad.) How damaged their bodies are, blistered by hell but somehow still breathing, how they are cracked in places they only show to each other, how fractured their emotions and souls and very beings are and yet, yet… Yet, Blake has the most beautiful soul Yang has ever seen. She opens lilac eyes and comes face-to-face with a watery amber, liquid gold threatening to collapse and struggling with the strength to stay standing, to stay brave. 

“I don’t know-” A gasp breaks her words and Yang moves her hand from Blake’s waist to cup the side of her face instinctively, wiping away the tears that begin to fall and her voice shakes and Yang shivers. Blake struggles to keep speaking, and if she doesn’t say the words, then Yang will do it in her place. “I don’t know what’s going to happen tonight. I don’t know what we’ll face or if… if all of us will make it out of there. I don’t know if we’ll all be okay… if _I’ll_ be okay. And I can’t promise that; I’m sorry, _I’m_ _sorry_ I can’t promise that everything will turn out okay because _I_ _don’t_ _know_ , I don’t know Yang, and I _don’t_ want to make an empty promise to you.”

And Yang wouldn’t dare ask her to make such a promise. That would be unfair to Blake, to herself. It stings, no doubt, and it does little to soothe the growing fear of losing her partner, but, but…

“Promise me this instead,” Yang breathes out, her grip gentle against Blake’s face as her fingers run against the back of her neck. “Promise that you won’t go far from me. If we are out of earshot of each other, if I can’t see you, if you can’t hear me- then we are too far from each other.” Yang breaks her hand free from where it was intertwined with Blake’s, now cradling her partner’s head like she was holding the world and was too afraid to drop it. Her voice quivers and it’s a futile fight to keep the tears out of her voice so she accepts defeat. “Promise me you won’t go far.”

“I won’t,” Blake vows, bringing her hands up to cradle over Yang’s and curl her fingers around them, “I swear.”

“Thank you,” Yang whispers like she was just given her greatest dream and she wishes she were brave enough to lean down and kiss her, but she isn’t.

“And you…” Blake keeps speaking, but she hesitates, Yang still cradling her face and running soothing thumbs against her cheeks- as if she could see the cracks and the chipping on Blake’s face and she’s trying to make it better with her touch alone. Blake’s hands move away then, dropping to Yang’s waist and slipping beneath Yang’s bomber jacket to pull their hips together and it’s nigh embarrassing how that simple touch makes her weak, makes her tremble from head-to-toe at the warmth emanating from those ghosting fingertips. Blake speaks slowly, anxious. “Can you promise _me_ something?”

And Blake looks so nervous asking that. It makes Yang want to whimper and cry for her because her partner has been through so much in her life- she’s just starting to build herself anew without the ever-present phantom of her past mistakes, of Adam, hovering over her with clawed fingers- and it has made her so scared to even ask of something, _anything_ from Yang. As if she isn’t deserving of asking for things. Those eyes are timid and shy and it just about looks like Blake thinks she’s taking too much even just asking if she could ask a question.

So, it is her duty to reassure Blake that no- no she wasn’t asking for too much. She could never ask for too much because Yang would give all of herself to her and so much more after that willingly.

“Anything,” Yang lets out as if she was reciting a prayer, “ _Everything_.”

Blake breathes a sigh, one of relief, and Yang wants to call her silly for being so nervous. But the moment shifts and those amber eyes filled with an intensity unlike any other, protective and flashing and terrified and pleading all at once.

“I…” Blake’s voice cracks and she stops herself to clear her throat, a slight coloring to her cheeks and she searches for something in Yang’s gaze and must have found it because she keeps talking, braver than before. “I made a promise to you that I wasn’t going to leave your side, remember?”

“I do,” Yang’s brows furrow, confused for a moment, but she says nothing more.

“That means I will follow you wherever you go,” Blake says in a solemn oath, “No matter where you go. So… So you promise me-”

Her partner stops again, her voice thick with emotions and tears, and Yang watches her struggle to keep herself together and has a moment of internal panic. Not knowing what else to do, and the fact that she couldn’t bear to see the person she loves in so much pain, Yang pulls Blake in closer for a warm embrace. Blake falls easily into it, the hands around her waist tightening, clutching, pleading, and her forehead falls into the crook of Yang’s neck. 

She doesn’t begin to sob, but her breathing is noticeably ragged and Yang draws soothing fingers through Blake’s hair with her hand, the robotic one clutching tightly at Blake’s coat and pulling her in closer. Yang says nothing, doesn’t really know what to say because Blake wasn’t finished so she gives her that chance.

And Blake takes it.

“Don’t go where I can’t follow,” Blake murmurs against the skin of her neck like she was telling a secret (in a terribly broken voice) and Yang’s brain wants to short-circuit at the sensation but she focuses, somehow, because the words are important. Her partner’s fingers dig into her tighter, desperate, and she speaks roughly in a whimper, “I know you have to take hits sometimes, but please, don’t be too reckless. Please keep fighting, long enough for me to find you.”

For a moment, Yang can’t connect the dots of what Blake is asking. _Don’t go where you can’t follow?_ They had already promised they would stay close to each other, so what was that supposed to mean?...

It catches up to her like a train crash, inevitable and deadly and she can’t look away from the impending doom. Yang squeezes her eyes shut and it’s nearing too much for her to bear, having Blake this close, having her speak those words.

_Don’t die_ , was the interpretation. _Don’t die because I can’t follow you to the afterlife_.

She wants to point out how it’s a little unfair of Blake to ask her that, but she figures Blake was unused to asking for things. It was either go big or go home and she often went home so now she was going big for once and asking Yang to stay alive. It’s a tall order. Almost too high for her to reach, too much for her to handle.

But dammit if Yang wasn’t going to at least try.

“I promise,” she vows recklessly- a bit ironic considering the second half of Blake’s words- and holds Blake tighter in response. “I promise, I’ll do my best.”

It feels like not enough, not enough of a vow that she had wanted to make. She would do her best, but what if her best wasn’t good enough? All things considered, they had all already tried their best, right? Their best had failed them time and time again.

But, it’s enough for Blake, because for one moment longer she’s huddled in Yang’s embrace, arms clinging to her partner like she was too afraid to let go, but in the next… the next…

One of Blake’s hands leaves from its perch and skims up up up, barely brushing against Yang’s body before it’s suddenly on one side of her face, turning her head slightly and Yang absolutely _freezes_ because Blake sets a kiss against her jaw and it’s such a small touch it’s not far from inconsequential in the grand scheme of things but to her? To her it means everything.

And it's slow and shy. It's adorable and it sets a blush against Yang’s cheeks immediately, her breath hitching and she feels like she chokes on air and she could feel a strangled sound trying to make its way out of her chest. Blake pulls back for just a moment, their eyes meeting and the look in Blake’s eyes is almost to a scalding degree and Yang feels delicious warmth energize her, waking her up and making her alert of everything going on- but mostly focused on Blake. _Blake, Blake, Blake._

Amber eyes shift, a small flicker down, and Blake leans in and kisses her again, this time on her cheek, inching closer and closer and ever closer to her mouth and Yang’s fingers hesitate where they are in Blake’s hair, not really knowing whether to tug her back or push her forward (because both options terrify her). 

She wants to, _Gods_ has she wanted to kiss Blake for what feels like forever. Since the moment they met even, when they were so naive to the tragedy that would come for them. Back then, it had been a fleeting thing, in all honesty, because Blake was- _is_ \- drop-dead gorgeous and Yang was only human.

Now, oh no, it’s not a fleeting thing. It’s _real_ and it’s there and it’s overpowering and the intensity of her desire _frightens_ even her and her fingers grip a fistful of Blake’s hair in response, not really pulling or pushing, heart pounding a drumbeat rhythm in her chest and tongue darting out to wet her dry lips. (It’s going to happen, she knows it’s going to happen and she isn’t prepared for it but _fuck_ does she want it to happen.) Blake’s eyes don’t leave her; not completely, at least, because, for that single second, they follow the trail on her lips and back up again. A subtle thing, asking for permission, and Yang can’t breathe with the suffocating anticipation.

But her head gives a small, jerking nod anyway, moving on its own accord, and a spark lights within Blake’s eyes and there’s a hint of a shy smile to her lips, the hand still on the side of Yang’s face moving slightly to get a better grip before pulling her forward. Yang’s eyes drift shut at the same moment and the strangled sound that had been trying to escape finally finds freedom and she _melts_.

Blake’s lips meet hers and it’s like a piece of her soul has found peace, letting out a sigh of _finally_. Blake kisses her and Yang feels invincible and weak all at once- that no one and nothing in this world could take her down; but one word, one sound, one _look,_ and she would fall to her knees for Blake and Blake only.

The kiss is warm like honey and scorching in a way that sets every nerve in her body on fire and what feels like electricity courses through her veins with the rapid beating of her heart and all she can feel is Blake and all she can smell is Blake and all she can taste is Blake Blake _Blake_. Her fingers pull at the roots of Blake’s hair as if searching for a reason to find balance, feeling so windswept she was surprised she was still standing (especially when Blake lets out a small groan at the back of her throat in response).

Their lips meet like the waves crashing into the cliffside behind them: not in the sense that it was violent, but in the sense that it was _powerful_. Inevitable. That’s what it feels like- like this was always meant to happen, everything leading up to this point, and now it's here and Yang can barely keep up with the swell of emotions and desires and fears and everything else. 

(She wonders who is the ocean and who is the cliff in this scenario. She thinks Blake is more befitting of the ocean, coming and going but always returning to the shore and shaping the landscape to her will, wave after endless wave. 

Yang is the island in this case, stable and unwavering- for others to stand on, lean on after they’ve fallen but willing to bend and shape to the will of her ocean, her Blake. It’s fitting, actually.

They were so close they were touching, yet still… Still, in an aching, horrible way, Yang cannot have Blake without getting lost in the waves. She cannot have her without drowning. Blake is dangerous for her and she, for Blake. They have the ability like no other to hurt each other in the worst ways, and she quivers with the power and the powerlessness she feels in tandem.

Her breath is shallow and fleeting and her heart races with panic and excitement, waiting to be swept away by the storm and Yang thinks, begs, desires, _wants_ …

Damn does Yang want to drown, if only so she could have Blake.)

They pull away for air and Yang can’t breathe anyway so she chases after Blake, hands hooking gentle fingers against Blake’s jaw and keeps her still. Long enough for their lips to brush once more, twice more, (barely a kiss even and more of a skimming of lips, like gentle fingertips against the surface of a lake) and Yang hesitates- wanting wanting wanting, craving craving craving- but doesn’t go in for a third. They stay close to each other, eyes closed and hands too shy to stray from where they rest on faces and hips. Her lips tingle and it’s maddening and calming at the same time, the way she trembles. A sharp inhale burns at her throat and Yang releases the sigh she had been holding back, breath hot and shaky against Blake’s lips. 

She’s too nervous to open her eyes, but when she does, it’s everything she had ever envisioned in her fantasies of kissing Blake. Her partner’s face is close, _so close_ , and her pupils are dilated to the point where only a sliver of sweet gold was visible and Yang thinks she was looking at treasure itself. They breathe the same air, leaning into each other and Yang is aware that she must be wearing the dopiest of grins and Blake just looks at her with such contentment, so much love it hurts. It hurts because it’s so hard for her to believe.

How could someone like Blake love, want, _need_ her? (Someone who was always left behind by others…)

But her body is buzzing with a harmonious rhythm reflected by her partner- always in rhythm they were- and her lips still tingle and she wants wants wants to keep kissing Blake and never stop, so she knows this must be real. She feels like she’s soaring and her heart might just ricochet out of her chest with how fast it’s going (and fly right into Blake’s to find a home); kissing Blake makes her feel invincible- the kind of invincible feeling that overcomes her whenever her semblance is maxed out and she is capable of toppling mountains and taking even the hardest of hits. It makes her feel powerful, unstoppable.

Indomitable. (Even if she truly isn’t.)

Her soul is in bliss and it sings such a beautiful song it brings tears to her eyes because it feels like all of her dreams have come true. The serenade her heart orchestrates makes her ache in a way she never thought it could and she smiles.

Blake smiles back, a healthy blush to her face and she looks like she just found her home and Yang short-circuits. That smile, that expression, the dazed look in her eyes- they were all for Yang Yang Yang and no one else.

And because Yang feels on top of the world and like she’s floating (and because she’s kind of an idiot who doesn’t know better) she opens her mouth and the only thing that comes out is-

“Wow.”

Her voice is thick and breathless and could just barely count as a whisper. But Blake hears her, and her partner gives a quiet giggle, giddy and content and in love love love. Blake’s hand remains on her face, the other on her hip running smooth circles with her thumb against clothes and Yang shivers at the warmth of the contact. It makes Yang feel playful in a way that she hasn’t felt in a while, and a teasing, but pleased, smile pulls at her mouth as she glances dazedly down to Blake’s lips. Silently and not so secretly yearning for more.

“Miss Belladonna,” she drawls and raises a slow brow, half-surprised she can even form words at all. “Are you trying to bribe me?”

A spark appears in Blake’s eye then, the tease catching fire in something like a challenge and Yang feels like she’s walking on air. Before- before the world tried to kill them time and time again, before trauma and tribulations bombarded them with horrors unimaginable, before Beacon fell and Blake left and Yang was still in one piece, before where they were just barely made partners and hardly knew anything about each other- they would joke and banter and tease each other back-and-forth with hardly any rest. It was fun (for Yang and she likes to think it was fun for Blake too). She would say one thing and Blake would reciprocate and the next thing either of them knew, hours had passed and it was time for bed. They had a synergy that just _worked_ like no other and there were times Yang couldn’t believe having a partner was this easy (looking at how often Ruby and Weiss had clashed, she thinks she lucked out).

Yang was curious and stubborn and Blake was inquisitive and competitive. It felt like playing with fire, jumping from one to the other and back again and thinking back now, Yang likes to believe that they had something between them- even back then, when nothing was serious and everything seemed like just a game. She likes to think they always had some sort of interest in each other.

And now, Blake hears the tease in her voice, recognizes it, and gives a subtle tilt of her head, eyes half-lidded and darting down to Yang’s lips again and she gives a quiet hum from the back of her throat that sets Yang aflame. 

“That depends,” she murmurs her challenge with shining eyes, “is it working?”

And Yang could be coy and not directly answer the question, but honesty is a new language on her tongue and she wants to show it off.

“Oh it definitely is,” Yang whispers and Blake has such a satisfied pull to her lips then it’s kind of adorable. Yang presses their foreheads together, tilting forward slightly with the temptation for more, loving the hitch in Blake’s breathing at her movement, and it’s very much a beg when she says, “Feel free to bribe me some more, please.”

_Kiss me again._

She tilts her head in, body buzzing and lips eager for more, but instead of the softness of Blake’s lips, she’s met with one of Blake’s fingers instead, pressing ever-so-gently. She gives a small pout and is about to pull back and apologize but Blake just gives a small shake of her head and leans forward, past her lips and her cheek and her jaw to her ear and it’s not quite a purr as she whispers, coy and teasing in a way Yang could never compare,

“ _After_.”

When she pulls back for their eyes to meet, Yang is, admittedly, confused for a moment and she almost wants to say “after what?” but then everything catches up to her as to what they were doing in the first place and why they were here. Right. Salem. Rescuing Ruby. Fighting Grimm.

Maybe dying. Hopefully not dying.

Promises promises promises.

_After,_ they can continue being in each other’s arms. _After,_ they can keep kissing with all the time in the world. _After_ , Yang can finally finally _finally_ have Blake all to herself.

(But only if they keep their promises, only if they stay close to each other, only if Yang doesn’t die or Blake doesn’t die and everything turns out okay.)

It’s almost disappointing- scratch that, it’s _definitely_ disappointing- but she understands. So, Yang drops her playful pout and just gives a bashful smile and a nod at that, placing a small, shy kiss to the tip of Blake’s finger, and her partner hums in appreciation before leaning forward into an embrace that was much too easy to fall into. They were already so close, it took nothing to move her hands and hold Blake. Her partner, shorter by a bit, places her head over Yang’s heart and Yang can’t help but feel self-conscious because she knows her heart is beating so fast right now.

A part of her wants Blake to hear it, to hear just how she makes her feel.

There’s still music coming from within herself and she... just… “ _Fuck_.”

“Hmm?” Blake angles her head slightly to indicate she was listening, face still hidden against her chest and Yang nuzzles into the top of Blake’s head, letting out a sharp breath and wincing as if she was in pain.

“It’s, just… The song my soul sings for you, Blake…” she sounds so sappy but she doesn’t care, “ _Gods_ , it’s beautiful and I wish, _I wish_ you can hear it.”

Perhaps that’s what hurts her the most in all of this. It’s not her fears and insecurities and it’s not her desires and needs. It’s the fact that no matter how much she tries- and _fuck_ is she going to try after all this is done and she has time- it’s unfair that she will never be able to express all the love she has for Blake to her. There were simply not enough days in their lifetime, not enough things she could do to prove it, and anything she does do will never be enough.

She will never be enough. (There are those insecurities again, wonderful.)

“Don’t worry,” Blake- like an angel reaching for the damned, unafraid of being tainted- speaks in a quiet tone, tilting her head up and lifting herself higher on her toes so she could graze her lips against Yang’s throat, against her pulse point and Yang shudders and holds her tighter in response. Tears of relief spring to her eyes as Blake whispers in a barely-there voice, reassuring and awestruck. 

“I can hear it.” She pauses and Yang could _feel_ her smile against her neck, their auras thrumming together in a peaceful, satisfied ambiance, “It’s beautiful.”

“It’s all for you,” Yang says so quickly, so assured it surprises even her. Her fingers curl a white-knuckle grip in the fabric of Blake’s coat, afraid of letting go now that she has the privilege to hold her. “It’s only for you.”

And maybe just for that, that naked and certain devotion, Blake gives her a kiss to the underside of her jaw, butterfly touches that trail upward and across to brush against Yang’s lips. Once, twice, and each time Blake tilts her head in like she can’t get enough; Yang is wondering just who gave her the right to be this lucky. (So much for after…)

“Thank you,” her partner speaks as she pulls back for their eyes to meet and, just. Her voice, her face, her eyes. _Everything_. It was all too much for Yang’s poor heart to handle. Blake sounded, spoke with such _reverence_ that, just, she sounded as though Yang had given her access, _permission_ to her greatest dreams and wildest wishes and fanciful fantasies. Like, she had given her purpose and direction and a home where she was always welcomed and _everything_ she had ever wanted just like that. Blake reaches up to grip the collar of her jacket, heads bumping together as she closes her eyes and repeats in a breaking voice, “ _Thank you_.”

Yang smiles something beautiful and gives another butterfly kiss of their lips, barely there and with the hint of a promise of more. _After after after_. She swallows back her tears of relief and lets out a joyous laugh, sniffling and content at last. Blake is here, in her arms, and Yang wants to look back to their messy history and thank it while also flipping it off because all that messy history is what finally led them to this point. 

If only her younger self, at the start of Beacon and the beginning of a brand new story, could look at her now. 

Unbelievable.

She would think this was all just a dream. A part of her still thinks it is, even now.

They remain that way, close to each other and foreheads touching, touches gentle and an occasional brush of lips or two (or three, or four, or seven), for an insurmountable time. Yang can’t entirely keep track, and in hindsight, could anyone blame her?

They only startle out of their peaceful reverie of shared dreams when the crowd of huntsmen and huntresses on the beach beneath the cliff start cheering and singing, and when Yang turns her eyes to look over at them, she can see many people beginning to hug and a few people sharing a kiss. Her brows furrow and she looks towards Blake, tilting her head, and she’s about to ask her what all that was about when Blake’s ears twitch backward and her partner turns around in her arms. Yang follows her gaze.

Weiss is walking up the hill now, at a slow pace, and holding a small tray in one hand and her scroll in the other. She’s looking at her scroll and not at them, expression strange in a way Yang doesn’t quite know the emotions in it. It’s pretty much a grimace, and yet, there’s a pleasantness to it that looks so out of place next to such gloom. She is a walking juxtaposition just trying to find her way in this messy life. (Then again, aren’t they all?)

Blake leans back into her and Yang hardly attempts to fight the smile that blossoms across her face as she glances down at her partner, hands encircled around her hips and head just over her shoulder. Blake keeps one of her hands on Yang’s arm, and just like that, it feels as if they had done this countless times before with the ease they settle into each other.

If Weiss notices their position, she doesn’t comment on it as she instead flashes her scroll to them, a small curl to her lips.

“It’s midnight,” she gives a one-shoulder shrug before adding on, almost carelessly, “Happy New Year.”

It gives Yang a moment's pause before she begins laughing to herself quietly, sharing a knowing look with Blake and her smile grows. _A first kiss on the New Year. How cliche._ Cliche or not, she wouldn’t take it back for anything.

“Happy New Year,” Yang says to Weiss, Blake repeating in a murmur and giving Yang’s arm a small squeeze. Noticing the contents on the silver tray, Yang raises a brow and nods towards it. “Shot glasses, Weiss? You know I don’t drink, I thought you didn’t either.”

“Oh, I know, I don’t,” Weiss waves off her words and approaches, pocketing her scroll and holding the tray with both hands. It’s with a small pang that Yang realizes there are four shot glasses there. They are filled with some sort of yellow juice that definitely does not look like the alcohol she was so used to seeing. “This is something your parents gave me instead, Blake. Something about star fruit?”

“Oh!” Blake’s ears perk up and she grins as she pulls herself out of Yang’s embrace. Yang gives a small frown, immediately missing her warmth, but acquiesces anyway. Blake moves forward with a strange sense of eagerness, grabbing one of the shot glasses and then another to extend out toward Yang. “I didn’t know we had any left, they’re really good. Here.”

Yang, of course, accepts the glass without a second thought, swishing the contents within it curiously and waiting for Weiss to grab her own before they clinked them together. Instead of downing it like it was actually alcohol, Yang lets it sit in her mouth for a moment to taste it. It was sweet with a sour undertone and she found it difficult to compare it to anything else, but overall, it was okay. (It was okay, but Blake was her brand new favorite taste, nothing could compare now.)

“Not bad,” Yang hums, placing her empty glass back on the tray. Her eyes land on the fourth, untouched glass and she frowns a little, catching Weiss’s eye as the ex-heiress finishes hers. Weiss mirrors her frown, glancing down at the shot and back to Yang before extending it out to her in a silent invitation. Blake watches from the sidelines, a tempered face of sorrow sitting just beneath the surface of her peaceful complexion. 

This was meant for Ruby.

It felt wrong to leave it, but it also felt wrong to take it. Her fingers hesitate as she reaches for it before her hand drops to her side, giving a shake of her head and sending a sad smile towards Weiss.

“You should have it.”

Weiss looks entirely too surprised at her words and, okay- Yang really needed to sit down and talk to her, and Blake too, about realizing just how much they were worth. They were important, both of them were important to Yang, and Ruby too. It was sad the sisters’ partners had grown up believing they were worth nothing.

Weiss looks like she’s about to argue, but perhaps she’s too tired or perhaps she really does want to believe Ruby would want her to have what was meant to be hers and accepts the remaining glass. Weiss finishes it without a second thought and the three settle into a solemn moment of silence.

_Just wait, Ruby._

_We’ll be there soon._

Eventually, perhaps when it becomes a little too much, a little too real, Weiss clears her throat and directs her attention to Blake.

“Your parents said they wanted to speak with you before we left,” her voice is quiet, cautious, and Blake blinks at her before she lets out a small groan, bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose and she moves with great reluctance afterward.

“Time for the teary send-offs,” Blake grumbles, always hating goodbyes, grabbing the tray and the empty glasses from Weiss with hardly a word and giving her a nod, “Thanks, Weiss. I’ll be back.”

“Give them a hug for me,” Yang calls out before adding, “Or I could do it after.”

“I’ll do it for you, you just wait for her,” Blake calls over her shoulder, and she’s about to reach the end of the hill when she stops and turns partially to look back up to her. Their eyes meet across the distance and Yang could hear the low humming of her heartstrings begin to stir again when Blake says, “And Yang? It’s all for you too… Only you.”

Her words shoot a bolt of lightning through Yang’s spine, perking to attention and the grin that appears on her face has enough watts to power Nora’s semblance to full. Blake smiles over her shoulder before walking off, Yang watching her leave the entire time, and the tension that had been in her body from standing there waiting- with the possibility of waiting forever for someone who would never show- eases just enough for the ache in her shoulders to vanish. She feels lighter, and she bounces on her toes slightly and lets out a joyous, quiet laugh.

Weiss watches her with a confused expression, looking in the direction where Blake wandered off and then back again and raising a brow. “Do I want to know?”

She almost says ‘no’ because a piece of her doesn’t feel like sharing, but even more than that, Yang just wants to squeal and gush because she’s never been allowed to before. She’s never had this before- someone she wants to spend her life with, someone she wants to kiss and hold and protect and be protected by. It was so strange to feel, to desire, but _fuck_ if she isn’t excited to learn more about it and embrace this feeling.

“She- I- We,” Yang can’t immediately form words and there’s obvious amusement appearing in Weiss’s gaze and Yang feels her face heating up at her own inability to speak. She lets out another laugh, high-pitched and bubbly and free, and she feels like screaming at the top of her lungs, but instead, she speaks almost in a whisper, like a secret, “We kissed.”

And Weiss doesn’t look surprised in the slightest, which is news to Yang, and instead, all she does is roll her eyes with a fond smile to her lips, speaking in a tone like exasperation. “About time.”

“Wh- Hey! What does that mean?”

“It means it was downright painful watching you two dance around each other for so long,” Weiss snorts at the affronted expression on Yang’s face, crossing her arms over herself in that way she always does without even noticing (like she’s trying to add another barrier over herself so the world had a harder time of hurting her). “It was cute in the beginning but then the tension kept building and building and it made me just want to lock the two of you in a room for you to work it all out.”

“Okay, first off, _rude_ ; secondly, I didn’t know that she liked me; and third,” Yang pauses, holding out three fingers and shaking her head, floundering, “I don’t have a third, but _third_!”

Weiss was shaking her head, either with amusement or exasperation or mild exhaustion, Yang couldn’t exactly tell. There was a curl to her lips though, and she was as glad as she was embarrassed that Weiss found this so funny. Her cheeks were on fire and she didn’t entirely know if it would go away, but at least Weiss was smiling so it was all fine. (It had been a while since she smiled, since they all smiled. It felt nice to do it again. Felt nice to have a reason to again.)

“I’m happy for you,” Weiss says after a moment, smile small but genuine (it was something they had dubbed the “Weiss smile.” She didn’t have the large grins and toothy smiles that many of the others did, and it almost looked like she was too scared to smile, but it was _real_ and that’s what mattered). “Both of you. At least something good came from these past months.”

Yang gives a nod of understanding and gratitude. “And we’re gonna ride this train all the way to the end.” She steps forward and places a hand on Weiss’s shoulder; never before had the other girl seemed so small and fragile. Yang feels like all she needed to do was give a squeeze and Weiss would break under her touch. (But she knew appearances could be deceiving, Weiss was tougher than anyone- even herself, _especially_ herself- gave her credit for. Anyone but Ruby, who had always seen the strength in her partner with just one look.) 

“We’re going to get her back,” Yang squeezes her slightly, a gentle tug, another promise made tonight. “Even if it isn’t tonight, we’ll try the next day. Or the day after that, and the day after that. We’re not going to stop until we get her back.”

“Oh, believe me, I know,” Weiss nods her head and the look in her eyes is so powerful it damn near scares Yang. She knew they were all doing their best, fighting their hardest to get Ruby back, but no one else was trying harder than Weiss. Sometimes, even Yang could hardly keep up, and it warms her heart knowing that someone- besides herself of course- cared for her sister that much. (With Weiss, Ruby was safe.) “We’re getting her back tonight, that’s a fact.”

“We won’t let anyone stand in our way,” Yang grins, a slight baring of teeth and a minuscule curl of a smirk. She likes to believe that if it was just them two, Weiss and Yang (and Blake, of course) then even an immortal like Salem would fall before them. Nobody messes with Ruby and gets away with it, and now Yang finds great joy in the fact she doesn’t have to protect Ruby alone anymore. 

“I have something I need to tell her, after all.” The fight doesn’t leave Weiss’s eyes, but it does temper a bit into something softer, something fonder. It reminds Yang of the way that she looks at Blake, all gentle eyes and loving care. She smiles with her, for her.

“Well if that’s the case, then we’re for damn sure getting her back,” Yang winks before finally dropping her hand from Weiss’s shoulder, holding it out in front of her with a fist extended out towards Weiss in an invitation. Maybe they never used to get along, or maybe they did but they got along like fire to ice so it was always volatile and perhaps a bit violent.

But Yang cares for Weiss and Weiss cares for Yang and the one thing that brought them together, if nothing else, was their care for _Ruby_. Instead of butting heads, they would turn their horns onto whoever dared hurt their little rose. (Perhaps they would even try to one-up each other to see who could protect her better, while also knowing they did their jobs as a partner and big sister swimmingly.)

Weiss rolls her eyes again- in that fond way she always does but doesn’t admit she does it- before extending one of her own hands out, tapping their knuckles together and Yang nearly wants to laugh at her awkwardness but bites her tongue instead. She’s about to open her mouth, to tease and spend the next who knows how long trading fond words masked as insults to each other, when the moment is over with a ripping of space and a familiar roar.

Yang’s entire body seizes up completely and the breath is rudely stolen from her as she turns away from Weiss, subconsciously positioning herself in front of her. No, she wasn’t hearing things. The vibrant red portal of Raven’s semblance shines like a bright star in the night, wisps of energy leaking from its maw, and out steps the visage of her mother. Grimm mask absent as ever and Yang still doesn’t know what that meant or where it was. (Perhaps Raven felt like she had nothing to hide anymore.)

Raven’s red eyes meet her quivering lilac, a silent nod of greeting coming from her mother.

“You’re here,” Yang breathes out before she can stop herself, relief dripping from her voice like blood from an open wound and she’s almost embarrassed enough to slap her hand to her mouth but she doesn’t. Raven gives a look akin to guilt and Yang is all the more glad she didn’t stop herself from speaking: good, let Raven know just how much turmoil she had put her daughter in (maybe this time, she’ll stay to fix it).

“I said I would be,” Raven gives a slight shrug, bringing a hand to rest on the hilt of her blade and sparing a glance in Weiss’s direction. Weiss has an expression on her face that shows she doesn’t know whether to be just as relieved as Yang or bitter for having to wait so long for Raven to show. Perhaps there’s even a bit of resentment there, and Yang knew without having to talk to Weiss that the ex-heiress still hadn’t forgiven Raven for what she did to her and Yang both. (She held onto grudges like that.)

Raven, for her part, only gives a nod in greeting and isn’t outwardly offended that Weiss doesn’t return it. Instead, her mother turns her eyes away from the two of them, taking one, two steps closer to the edge of the cliff- enough for her to see the beach down below and a low, appreciative whistle came from her lips.

With a raised, impressed brow, Raven says to her, “That’s quite an army you got yourself there.”

“Yeah, well…” Yang shrugs because she really doesn’t know how to respond to that. Shifting so her back wasn’t to Raven, Yang turns to look back over the friends and allies gathered, some dozing off and others still recounting fabulous tales to one another. Brothers and sisters and kin-in-arms waiting for the battle to start. “A lot of people wanted to help.”

And it was true. Most all of them were there either because they simply wanted to have a hand in a final battle, or the majority of which understood Yang’s sole reason for going. Not to kill every Grimm in sight, and not even to defeat Salem- just to get Ruby back. At first, she had been skeptical about telling strangers and tentative allies about her reasoning, about Ruby’s significance in everything and her silver eyes and just what she meant to everyone, but the more she talked, the more people listened. Their friends especially and anybody who had been there to personally witness the Fall of Beacon years ago knew just how important Ruby was (to her, and maybe to the world even).

“That’s good…” Raven mutters in a tight voice that makes Yang believe maybe that wasn’t so good, but Raven was trying. It was a strange thing, to see her mother try for her. After another moment, she finally turns to face Yang and there is a solemn, yet firm look on her face as she says, “But at the very least, give them the opportunity to walk away if they want to.”

_Ah_. So that’s what it was. Raven was a strange one who found the duty and oath she should have sworn as a huntress to be a cage. She was most comfortable with the idea of being able to leave if she wanted. (Yang briefly wonders if that’s how Raven saw _her_ , if that’s how she viewed family to be- nothing more than a prison to be trapped in.)

It rubs her the wrong way, but Yang gives a nod. “I will.”

“Then, if you’re all ready.” Raven turns away, moving towards her portal and extending her hand towards it as if she was beckoning it to her like one does a stray dog. Yang watches with mild interest as the open maw of the portal quivers and shifts, the wisps of energy leaking from it drifting through the air, coalescing and hovering over Raven’s palm until, eventually, what appeared like a miniature black hole sits in her grasp. Raven holds the bead of energy over her palm and it follows her as she turns around, indicating to the bottom of the hill. The only thing she says as an explanation is: “It’ll be easier if this is on the beach.”

It catches up to Yang so abruptly it nearly knocks her off her feet. _Oh shit_ , she thinks, _this is it. We’re going now._

Weiss wears a similar thought on her face, eyes going wide for a brief moment of panic before her lips form a grim line of determination, one of her hands going to hover where Myrtenaster sits at her hip. They share a nod, and just like that, Yang finally walks down the hill with Weiss and Raven in tow.

She counts her steps as she goes, losing track multiple times as she leads them around the outskirts of the gathered people. Eyes of various colors and shades and shapes turn curiously in her direction- mostly to Raven, who still holds the portal-bead in her open palm- and very few are actually aware of what this all means. Nora and Ren catch her eye and the flamboyance with which Nora tells a story comes to a screeching halt, the two sharing their own look before going about gathering their weapons. Yang feels her heart pounding in her throat, the soothing sound of the waves muffled by the murmurs and whispers of the people all around her as she makes it to the shoreline with Raven behind her. People call for quiet and the silence ripples through the crowd like when she was a child who enjoyed skipping stones to disrupt the smoothness of the lake’s surface, everyone beginning to stand and approach closer, and _wow_ what a crowd they were.

Yang glances around and steps onto a nearby log so she could see over the heads of everybody there. She knows she has to say something, especially since she’s basically the one leading this entire thing. Her eyes find Blake through the crowd, her partner leaving her parents' side with one last tearful goodbye and sneaking through the spaces of the people toward her. Their eyes meet through the masses and Yang feels just the slightest more confident, taking in a deep breath and the silence is heavy in the air, people waiting for her to speak.

She feels a little lost, and she glances behind her to where Raven stands and down to her side where Weiss is right by the log, looking up at her.

“I’m gonna be honest, uh… I’m not very good at this,” Yang admits and a few people chuckle, some of the tension easing with her words, and she smiles sheepishly. “I don’t think I’ve ever been the type to inspire the masses and I don’t think of myself as a leader by any means, but… I’m going to try because you all fucking deserve it. For being here, for offering to help and fight in an impossible battle. I’ve only seen Salem’s realm once, for a few minutes at that, so I don’t know what really awaits us there.

“There’s a lot of… There’s a lot that is unknown here. I wish I could provide you the answers but I can’t. But what I do know, is that there- it’s the home of the Grimm. And we are huntsmen and huntresses who have sworn to protect the people of this world.” Yang pauses to gather her thoughts, frowning to herself as her brows furrow. She gives a slight shake of her head, “Some of you only want the fight of your life. Others really want to kill some fucking Grimm. But for me… I want to save my sister. And, shit, maybe you don’t share that sentiment, maybe our goals are different but right now, in this moment, when we’re there- we’re all there together. I am going to trust my life with you all, I hope you can trust your life with me. And… thank you. Without all of you, I mean- I’d probably still go but at least now it’s not a complete suicide mission.”

Blake finally reaches her at this point, giving her an encouraging smile but not joining her on the log. Yang thinks she can see redness in her eyes and knows Blake has most definitely been crying at one point with her parents and it makes her want to reach out and hold her. 

She glances over her shoulder once more to where Raven is still standing, waiting, and with a nod, Yang turns back to add, “I know this is scary. So, for anyone who is having second thoughts about this… It’s okay. You don’t have to come. I understand, and no one is going to blame you for walking away now.”

_Including you, mom_. Yang hardly turns to look over her shoulder, but she thinks that Raven hears her silent words regardless so that has to be enough for her. For a heartbeat, nobody moves and everybody holds their breath. But then, a few people do begin to wander, leaving the crowd and walking away and Yang has to tell herself that that’s fine. She can’t- and truly doesn’t- expect people to die for her Hail Mary mission.

But it’s only a handful compared to the rest that _do_ stay, so it’s enough for her. With a final nod, Yang smiles shakily and not as confident as she wants it to be before raising a fist in the air.

“Now, let’s go kick some Grimm ass!”

Shouts and cheers and whistles fill her ears and Yang finally turns to step off the log, stumbling slightly in the sand but Blake was never far away enough to let her actually fall. Her hand slips into Yang’s, skin smooth with thin scars in places and rough with calluses in others and Yang squeezes her hand like she’s done it thousands of times before. Raven watches them approach and if she notices their hand holding, she says nothing about it.

“Not the most impressive of speeches, but I supposed it’ll have to do,” Raven shrugs and Yang, despite herself, gives a small snort in response.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever, can your portal fit this many people or not?”

“I can keep it open as long as I want,” Raven responds flippantly, “it’ll probably be only three or four at a time though, I can only make it so large.”

“Jaune could help?” Blake suggests and Yang gives a small shake of her head.

“We should save our energy for when we’re actually there, and-”

Raven is about to make her portal stationery once more and Yang is about to walk forward when she hears what sounds like a low droning, like the call of birds and thunder and various other nature vocals. The beating of a hand drum starts and all eyes turn curiously around and it takes Yang a moment to realize that Blake lets out a sharp gasp, and as soon as she looks in her direction, she could see a fresh shine of tears in her eyes and something like a sad smile on her lips. The sounds continue and the more she listens to it, the more it reminds her of chanting, singing.

“Blake?” she asks, both for an explanation and because the sad acceptance in those eyes makes Yang nervous. She gives a tender squeeze of their hands and it seems to anchor Blake, who had been drifting away with the sounds even while she was physically still standing there. Her partner closes her eyes, a stray tear trailing down her cheek, and the smile on her face grows but it’s still so sad. A shuddering breath escapes her before she finally looks at Yang.

“It’s a send-off,” Blake explains, motioning towards the cliffside they had been standing on mere moments ago, and only now does Yang realize that other people are there. Mostly Faunus, the villagers of Menagerie. Blake’s parents stand closest to the edge, staring directly down at them from their vantage point. “For those going to war. A farewell… A goodbye.”

And it’s hauntingly beautiful. It sends a chill down her spine- both of dread, with its sick residue creeping towards her heart, and of hope, a light flickering to life within her chest and warming her up unlike any other. _Return safe_ , the sounds seem to say as they mix together, and Yang hears it loud and clear. A close-lipped smile pulls at her mouth and her eyes turn to find Blake’s, who is looking past her to where her parents stand in a silent communication of shared expressions. Her partner looks so tragically beautiful at this moment- the full moon casting a silver-white light to silhouette her figure, eyes rimmed with red from crying and tear stains on her cheeks in slow-moving rivulets, but a smile on her face that was nervous and scared and happy and accepting. (Juxtapositions, the lot of them were.)

Blake clears her throat lightly, swallowing the clog of emotions down, before lifting her free hand, cupping it around the side of her mouth and letting out something like a bird call (like the repeated chirps and trills of the chipping sparrows back home at Patch). The sound is picked up by the rest of the villagers, echoing it with a rolling increase and decrease of volume. If Yang closes her eyes, she can picture herself standing in one of the jungle clearings here in Menagerie, listening to the sounds of nature and just relaxing (with Blake at her side).

“We should go,” Blake says and pulls her away from the lovely mental image of relaxation. (Hopefully, when this is all over, they have the time to just do nothing for a day.) Her eyes meet liquid gold and Blake looks like she wants to leave about as much as she wants to drown- not at all. Yang almost feels guilty, asking Blake to join in this fight, stressing Blake’s parents like this when they hardly had the time to be a family together as it was.

“You could stay?” Yang says before she could stop herself, the words tumbling out of her mouth without her full permission, and Blake’s eyes go a little wide before they soften at the edges, sparing a glance up to the cliff where her parents are and then down to their joined hands. 

“I could,” the words make Yang’s throat seize with panic, spindly fingers wrapping around her neck, but Blake single-handedly tears panic’s grip away from her with a loving look. “But I’m right where I belong.” She squeezes Yang’s hand for emphasis and gives a slight tug where Raven is still waiting, eyes glazed over as she listens to the war song and her portal opened at her back.

Yang smiles, part in relief and part with shame for ever thinking Blake would leave so quickly after the promises they made tonight. She lifts Blake’s hand to her lips, giving a light kiss to her knuckles as a silent apology, before turning and moving the two of them where the red portal lingers. The strands of energy never extend too far from the source, wanting to leave and wreak havoc but not allowed to because of their mistress. Raven watches her approach before stepping aside, waving one hand to the open maw of the abyss and silently telling Yang to jump first. 

Weiss is at her other side, and Yang hardly hesitates to wrap her free hand around Weiss’s wrist that rests on Mystrenaster’s hilt. Weiss startles for a moment before relaxing, shifting her hand to grab Yang’s as well and giving a tight, nervous squeeze. Both for consolation and assurance. Whether it was for her or Weiss, Yang didn’t entirely know, but she squeezes back anyway.

The roaring of the portal realm grows ever louder as they get closer, and Yang walks in the middle with her partner and one of her best friends at her sides. She decides that she needs to be the brave one, because neither Blake nor Weiss had seen Salem’s world before, and it is a living nightmare that Yang had witnessed only once.

Raven tells her that they will appear in a different area than before, but Yang assures herself that everything will look relatively the same anyway. 

And when they finally take that step inside, fear clinging to their bodies like wisps of shadows, Yang closes her eyes as the peaceful oceanside of Menagerie vanishes and the world twists and turns on itself. Colors and sensations and sounds warp into something incomprehensible and the grip she has on Blake and Weiss is iron-like and they squeeze her hands back with enough force to break bone even.

_It was time._

**_…_ **

**_~:Won’t be long, won’t be long, I’m almost here:~_ **

When she opens her eyes and draws the stale air into her lungs, she knows she was right- everything looks the same. 

A sky bathed with blood and shadows, an open valley of rich violet and deep reds and black and purple crystals. Pools of dark ichor and sticky, bubbly tar litter areas at random, but for the most part, the field before them is empty of onyx water. Only the moon remains the same, full and round and shining a bright silver light reminiscent of Ruby’s power. It gives her a flicker of hope.

Raven was right, too. They don’t appear on the same, sharp hilltop as before, but instead, on flat and open land. It doesn’t take her long to find the castle in the distance; straight ahead and sitting on its own mountain of stone and blood-red paths is Salem’s home. That’s not what immediately catches her eye though.

What does is the army of Grimm sitting just below it, blocking the way.

At first, it’s difficult for her to register the mass of writhing blackness as the soulless creatures she vowed to eliminate, and her eyes have a difficult time squinting to get a clearer picture as to _what_ she was seeing.

It’s the sounds that give it away. The screeches and howls and droning moans send a shiver down her spine. The thin air seems thinner and for a second, Yang chokes on her next breath. _She’s expecting us._ It wasn’t too surprising, in all honesty. Salem was… well, she was immortal and that came with some sense of all-knowingness, right? She must have spies _everywhere_ , her eyes and ears in every hidden corner of every part of Remnant, so it wasn’t surprising she caught wind of this suicide mission.

And now she was ready for them. _Letting_ them come into her home, her world. Inviting them in, and in the distance, Yang could fool herself into thinking the witch was looking out over the battlefield with a wicked smile, curling a finger to them as if to say _Come. Come to your doom. I’ll even hold the doors open for you._

Yang feels her nerves begin to stomp all over her determination, and for a second, just a fraction of a second, fear makes her want to turn back around and go back to the peaceful beaches of Menagerie.

Instead, Yang steels herself and moves forward so she could make room for the others.

Blake and Weiss move with her, mostly because their hands are still linked together, and Yang keeps her eyes on the stone structure in the distance because if she looked at the swarm of Grimm or if she looked at their faces she might just call it quits. Blake’s nails dig into her hand subconsciously and Yang lets the sting of pain bring her comfort. Weiss’s hand is heavy in her robot one and Yang is afraid that if she lets go of the other girl, Weiss would break and not get back up again.

So, she’s the brave one, even in her fear. Behind them, there’s an orchestra of startled gasps and frightened murmurs and plenty of curses as more and more people go through the portal and see this hell for the first time. Some immediately draw their weapons and the air is abuzz with the whirring of machines within seconds. She takes in a ragged inhale of the air that just feels _off_. Everything about this world felt off. It was like somebody sucked all the oxygen away in a vacuum, like someone turned the dial of gravity ever higher and there is a heaviness that sits on her body and it’s a struggle to hold herself confidently. 

Whispers fill the air that belongs to no living person and Yang wonders that if one spent enough time here, will they be able to talk back to the voices?

(She thinks she might just go insane before the night is over.)

She stops walking when she goes as far as she’s willing to, hoping that people behind her would get the message and begin to spread out into formation. They had… loosely gone over some game plans. Those with teams would stay with them, those with partners would stay with partners, and those who often worked alone would respect the buddy-system and linger by a pair or a team just in case. It was mostly everyone for themself, but they had to work together. They had gone over semblances and weapons and tactics and Yang just about spent five hours working with Weiss and Jaune and a few of the older, more trained adults about how to best position everybody.

The general consensus came to- plans never survive first contact with the enemy. Forcing people to stay in certain formations would only put everybody else in danger. So, Yang trusted her friends and her elders that fighting together would come naturally. Of course, if you saw someone in trouble, obviously go help them out.

Her main goal, and the goal of a few choice people with her, was not to kill every Grimm in sight but to just get to the castle. They had to keep moving forward, keep pushing on, and not get held behind to fight against every monster. They would clear a path and everybody else would hold off the main forces.

“Alright, I think that’s everybody.”

Yang startles and cranes her head around- because she was still holding Blake and Weiss’s hands and she didn’t think they would appreciate being dragged around like ragdolls- and it’s embarrassing, it’s _embarrassing_ just how much lighter she feels when Raven approaches. She had thought… Well, she had thought her mother would stay on the beaches and close the portal there once everyone went through. She didn’t think she would join them.

But she’s here. Raven steps away from the gathered crowd and crosses the small distance Yang has put between herself and the rest of the army. Her hand rests lightly on Omen’s hilt and red eyes look off in the distance. Her brows furrow and Yang could tell that the sight of so many Grimm- the fact that Salem seemed to have been expecting them tonight- makes her mother nervous. There were so many questions and no time for answers.

“I’ve left the portal lingering in case we need a quick retreat.” It’s such a startling difference than she’s used to. Her mother speaks in a stern tone like some sort of general, like a soldier who had gone to war before and this was her second time on the battlefield, like… Like a huntress, and not the bandit and runaway mom Raven had presented herself as. There’s no sign that she’s willing to leave and Yang can’t help but wonder if she’s really important enough to Raven to make her stay, just this once. Raven shrugs and waves a hand lazily in front of her, “That just means I won’t be able to use my semblance out here.”

“Will you be alright without it?” Raven’s appearance seems to have startled Weiss to attention as well, the ex-heiress giving Yang’s hand another squeeze before she feels brave enough to let go. (Her hand immediately goes to Myrtenaster’s hilt.) 

Yang’s mother gives a slight scoff in response, affronted. “I think I’ll make do.”

It was a comforting thought, having another maiden on their side. Penny was already a fast-learner and growing adjusted to her powers, and now Raven…

Yang feels the slightest more confident and it’s easier to stand and breathe. She can’t help the smile that pulls at her lips, and it’s a dangerous thing. This growing hope. She’s afraid to hope because hope ruined them before, but… Hope had a strange way of always coming back to her.

“Thank you,” Yang says on her next breath and Raven gives a small smile in response before giving a slight bow of her head, turning and heading in the direction where Qrow was sneakily trying to distance himself from the others. Watching her walk away and knowing she was still _there_ was something Yang didn’t think she would get used to. (She hoped she got the chance to.)

“Yang,” Blake’s voice at her side immediately draws her attention, and purple eyes seek out gold. Minutes have passed and it’s not nearly enough to drive away all the fear and anxiety in Blake’s eyes, but there’s more resolve in there than anything else and it’s such a beautiful look. Her partner opens her mouth and Yang anticipates her words, holds her breath, and waits, but Blake decides not to say anything and instead shakes her head to herself. She’s scared, and that’s okay because Yang is too. 

They could be scared together.

Yang leans toward her, brushing her lips against Blake’s forehead, and stays there for a second long enough to whisper a secret into her skin, “I promise.”

Blake’s fingers squeeze hers like a lifeline and her free hand clutches at Yang’s forearm, squeezing that too and her partner lets out a shuddering breath. It’s mind-boggling how just two little words have so much power and meaning over them and Yang can’t even be mad about it. Promises were like their love language at this point. It’s the only thing they cling tighter to than each other, especially at this moment, in this place- where they could not continue to hold hands when the fight begins. (Well, they probably _could_ , but that won’t be as effective for anybody.)

Gold meets purple and Blake doesn’t have to say the words out loud for Yang to hear them: _I promise_. Yang smiles and she plants a kiss on her partner’s nose before slowly, reluctantly, she steps back and Blake is the first one to pull her hand loose because Yang can’t bring herself to do it. The missing contact makes her heart strangle and Yang has to turn away before she does something ridiculous (like pick up Blake and refuse to let her go). 

(Her hand begins to shake a little, the clicking of her unactivated gauntlet sounding minutely for a moment, and Yang clenches her fingers into a tight fist in response. She ignores it.)

Her eyes find the Grimm horde and Yang takes a few steps closer, convincing herself that she could see them better even with just that minuscule distance drop, and she squints. Though the shapes all seem to blend together, there are clearly some distinguishable characters in the midst. Grimm, larger than she was admittedly comfortable in dealing with, spread out like obelisks amidst the pack of smaller, four-legged ones writhing around. The battlefield is miles long and miles wide and Yang doesn’t know if it’s a good or a bad thing that the swarm doesn’t extend as far as the eye can see.

On one hand, it just means there is less to deal with and they weren’t _too_ greatly outnumbered.

On the other… If Salem was comfortable with having just this small-numbered army, when she could’ve easily just overwhelmed them with an infinite number of monsters, then that means these specific Grimm are _powerful_. Stronger than any they could have come across even. (Or maybe Salem didn’t have enough time to make such a large army, but that was a fool’s wish.)

There are a few that are airborne, features difficult to make out from a distance but something about them was distinctly humanoid. Well, as humanoid as a monster could get.

It sends a shudder down her spine and Yang has to close her eyes for a moment.

_You’re here to save Ruby._

_The only thing separating you and her are these monsters._

Purple disappears and red materializes, Yang’s inquisitive view of the swarm turns to a burning glare that she hopes they could sense. Her gaze shifts up, to the top of the mountain, where the castle sits and she thinks she can see something like stained glass facing their direction. It’s probably her imagination, seeing a silhouette just standing there, staring. Waiting.

_I’m almost there Ruby. Wait just a little longer, please._

Yang glances down at her hands, at the one made of flesh giving an occasional twitch and the one made of spray-painted metal that remains steady and strong. _I’ll tear the world apart with these hands just to get to you._ She thinks she would tear the world apart for Blake too. For Weiss. For all of her friends and the people that she loved.

Ember Celica comes to life as Yang lowers her arms sharply, her eyes narrowing and she could feel the heat lingering just beneath the surface of her skin, semblance ready to burst and burn all who came near her. Behind her, there is a stiff moment of silence before she hears more and more people activating and drawing their weapons. There’s a familiar hiss in the air as Blake draws her blade, moving just within Yang’s line of sight and standing tall. At her other side, Yang thinks she can feel the frosty chill of Weiss’s semblance as the ex-heiress steps forward as well, Myrtenaster at the ready and the dust clicking into place.

Her heart beats rapidly and Yang closes her eyes as she draws in a deep, calming breath.

**_…_ **

**_~:Watch me cry all my tears:~_ **

_Laughter and rose petals come first before Ruby herself materializes into place, Yang having only half a second to lift her arms and block the heavy blade of Crescent Rose. For all Yang teases Ruby about not being good at unarmed combat, it honestly scares her just how good her sister is at_ armed _combat. Crescent Rose was not just a silly toy, but a deadly weapon._

_There is enough heft to the blow that makes Yang stagger back a step or two, a quiet grunt escaping her lips, and the effort it took to remain standing and not fall to her knees was surprising. Before Yang could retaliate and snatch at her sister to keep her in place, she hardly has enough time to see her sister’s face-splitting grin before Ruby disappears yet again in a flurry of red. Yang reaches forward regardless, hoping that she could grab something, and fails miserably and goes back to a defensive stance._

_Atlas’ training rooms were wonderful and all, but so much open space puts Yang at such a disadvantage against her sister. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the rest of their friends sitting in the stands, a few curious students who didn’t know them also sticking by to watch and Yang is a little miffed that she’s making such a poor impression. Their little sparring match had been going on for what feels like an hour- a glance at the timer only shows that about fifteen or so minutes had passed- and Yang had mostly been blocking and chasing the petals rather than fighting._

_It’s a little embarrassing, really._

_“Come on, Yang! Have you always been such a slowpoke?” Ruby’s voice sounds like it comes from everywhere and a petal floats into her vision from the left- Yang barely has enough time to throw herself forward and out of the scythe’s wide arc. Ruby’s laughter trills through the air, light-hearted and joyful like her little tease._

_It’s just a tease, just a little tease, yet the words are eerily familiar to the ghost over her shoulder and the blood on her hands and Yang has to take a heartbeat to rear herself back in before she could spiral into_ those _thoughts. She has to remind herself that Ruby didn’t know, that she meant no harm because Yang never told her about it._

_“Yeah, keep talking. Wait till I catch you, sis,” Yang responds through gritted teeth, and she could feel her semblance simmering to nigh unbearable levels now. Ruby appears a few feet before her, brandishing Crescent Rose between them and her eyes are alight with the freedom of fun. A light that quickly shifts to that familiar flame of battle before the scythe’s blade digs into the ground for support and Ruby is shooting at her._

_The sound of the sniper echoes around the arena and into her ears and Yang bares her teeth, prepares herself, before charging forward like a freight train. She often trained with Ruby back at home, where nobody else was willing to fight her, and Yang had more than a fair share of times being at the end of the sniper’s barrel. Yet, no matter how many times she was shot at, it still_ hurt _._

_This time was no different; she could already feel bruises and knows she will be aching for days to come where the bullets hit her shoulder and chest and even her forehead, but Yang takes that pain and keeps moving. She grits her teeth through it, through the sting and the pressure, and lets it drive her forward. Her semblance burns her more than the bullets do anyway and Yang has to fight a battle against it too to keep herself from summoning it too early. Building up all that punishment until the last possible second._

_When she’s close enough, Ruby has taken the blade out of the ground and holds it diagonally in front of her body to protect her, backing away to fall into her semblance. Yang activates hers then, fire and embers sparking at her hair and eyes burning red, the extra push propelling her forward, and Ruby’s eyes widen a bit at the sudden burst of speed, holding her defense steady because she knows this is going to hurt if it lands._

_If it lands…_

_Yang already knows it won’t. Ruby is just out of her reach and will not receive the full force of her hit. She would have to overextend her punch just to get her and Yang knows it’ll hurt_ her _more than it would hurt Ruby (and she’s a little scared she might even snap her elbow at this point). To protect herself, and perhaps because some part of her doesn’t want to_ hit _Ruby, Yang switches her target at the last minute, shifting her stance, and arching her attack wide to ram into the floor below._

_The devastating shockwave sends Ruby flying, having been much too close to avoid it, and her sister lets out a shout of surprise as the force shoots her straight into the wall. The poor floor that took the full force of her blow stands no chance against Yang’s might, cracking and splintering as if someone had thrown a rock through a window. The tiles shift and snap and the uneven footing beneath her makes her stagger a bit. Or maybe that’s just her exhaustion, catching up to her now that all of the pain and energy was released._

_Her hand trembles, though she doesn’t know whether it’s from the exertion or because punching the floor had been a bit painful or if her body is still milking the vanishing reserves of her energy, and Yang can’t quite feel her knuckles anymore. But she stands up straight, rolling her shoulders back and releasing a heavy sigh that comes with a bit of steam from her mouth. The fire flickers away and her aura is barely,_ barely _there anymore- paper-thin and it would probably take just a little tap for it to break right now._

_She physically prepares herself for Ruby’s next attack, because the scythe would be much more than a little tap, but her eyes find the wall that Ruby had collided with, and just like that- all of her battle seriousness disappears and she doubles over in laughter._

_Ruby’s stuck in the wall. She squirms and kicks her legs and mutters words that are probably censored curses (“Fricking stupid butt, dumb wall!”) but she can’t seem to dislodge herself from it. Crescent Rose is on the floor beneath her and Ruby tries to reach it but fails. When she hears Yang’s laughter, Ruby huffs and pouts mightily._

_“Yang!” she drags her name out in a whine, extending a single hand out, “Help me dum-dum.”_

_“I think this means I win,” Yang laughs as she composes herself enough to walk over, half-aware that most of the strangers who had stuck around to watch are now leaving a bit disappointed. Ah well, next time she’ll impress them._

_“It’s a draw,” Ruby huffs, “Now, get me out of here.”_

_“I dunno, you look pretty comfy...”_

_“Yang!”_

_Yang smiles and decides to spare her sister of further embarrassment, grabbing at the flailing hand and putting one of her boots against the wall to brace herself. After a few tugs, her sister pops free and falls right on top of her. And normally, Yang would be able to hold her sister like she weighed nothing because Ruby often asked for piggyback rides or hung onto her for whatever reason._

_But right now, she’s drained of nearly all of her energy, and Ruby lets out a startled sound as the two go falling straight to the ground. Yang groans pitifully and Ruby quickly scrambles off of her, kneeling at her side and it’s a little embarrassing that Yang can’t find the energy to sit up right now. Ruby is quiet for a few seconds, long enough to draw her sister’s eye to her curiously, and Ruby just gives a closed-lip smile and pats Yang’s head._

_The action is such a small thing, but it warms Yang’s heart and she closes her eyes to relish in the contact._

_“Want me to bring a stretcher?” Ruby asks, still patting at her head and running her finger through a few sweaty strands of Yang’s hair, unbothered._

_“Nah, just… give me a second,” Yang mumbles and she’s suddenly so_ tired _. The ache in her bones makes her feel like jelly and she just wants to melt into a puddle of exhaustion and bruises. “Floor’s comfy.”_

_“The floor’s broken, Yang,” Ruby snorts, sparing a glance at the crater she had made, and Yang smiles a little proudly at that. Hah! Take that Atlesian floor, “supposedly” indestructible. Nothing is indestructible when the Yang is around._

_She must have said that out loud, because Ruby starts laughing quietly and Yang makes her lips form a smile even though that, too, is arduous. There’s just something about getting her sister to laugh- especially with so much intensity and stress nowadays- that feels like a victory to her and it is deserving of a smile. She loved that about Ruby, that even in the darkest of moments, her sister was always the brightest star in the sky._

_(Ruby always said that Yang was the bright one, but Yang knew she had enough cracks in her soul and shadows in her heart to make her own light wither away. It’s smaller than before, like the flame of a candle more than a flaring sun, and Yang is guarding that light with her life because she knows it’ll get cold without it.)_

_Fingers graze one spot near the top of her forehead, a bit off to the left side, and Yang can’t help but be surprised at the calluses there. Ruby had always been proud of them, the calluses and tiny scars she received from using Crescent Rose. It was the fruits of her effort given a physical form, showing that she was the huntress she always dreamed of being. Yang doesn’t know how to feel about them- aches to know that such roughness came from a harsh life of dangers she had wanted to protect her sister from, even while Ruby ran headfirst into them._

_(Yang just hopes she’ll be able to continue keeping pace with Ruby, close enough to save her sister from the worst of the dangers.)_

_“Sorry,” Ruby murmurs in a quiet tone and Yang has to peek open one of her eyes to look at the frown on her sister’s face. Silver eyes aren’t looking at her, but instead, what no doubt is a bruise caused by the sniper’s bullet. It will be easy enough to hide from the others, she just had to brush her bangs this way and that to make them disappear. (Just like the rest of her bruises. No one wanted to see those.)_

_Yang didn’t need the worried looks and concerned words and heavy apologies. She was fine. This was the price of her semblance and she learned to live with it by now. (She ignores the fact that it still hurts.)_

_“Don’t worry about it, it’s fine Rubes,” Yang brushes away the concerns like they’re particles of dust and ash on her clothes, waving her hand lazily before putting on a grin. “You’re almost getting good enough to hit the middle.” She taps the middle of her forehead teasingly. “Keep training and you’ll get it.”_

_Ruby scoffs a bit, crossing her arms. “My aim is top-notch, Yang. If I wanted to hit you right in the middle of your big forehead, I would have.”_

_“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Yang chuckles, and just like that, the concern is gone and Yang feels accomplished. It’s not that she didn’t care if people worried about her, it’s just that… Well. It wasn’t necessary. (And she wasn’t used to it, used to being doted on because she was usually the one who did the doting, but that was a different can of worms she didn’t feel like opening.)_

_She could take care of herself. She had to, because who else was going to keep everybody safe?_

_(Surely not someone who was falling apart.)_

_“Is everything alright over there?” One of their friends shouts from the stands, and Yang_ thinks _it’s Weiss- always impatient, that one- but she could be wrong. Sound is a little fuzzy in her ears and she thinks she hears a slight ringing. Huh. Maybe she had a concussion- that bullet certainly hadn’t been gentle. (It was like a mini-battering ram, damage blunt instead of piercing because of her aura forcing it away.)_

_“Yeah!” Ruby shouts over her shoulder and looks down at Yang, a little frantic now and a little more worried. “You sure you’re okay?”_

_“Completely,” Yang raises a thumb._

_“Then why aren’t you standing up?”_

_“Told you, floor’s comfy.”_

_“Yang.” Ruby frowns and Yang’s brows furrow a bit. Uh oh. She wasn’t doing a very good job at being a-okay._

_Alright time to get up._

_...Except, Yang can’t bring herself to move and her body doesn’t exactly want to cooperate. And Ruby, possibly seeing her struggle, lets out a sigh before standing up- quickly wandering over to Crescent Rose to brush it off and click it in place- and moving over Yang, extending a hand down to her._

_“Come on, I’ll help you up.”_

_And Yang wants to comment that it was supposed to be the other way around- with her helping Ruby up when she’s fallen- but all she can do is shrug and accept her sister’s hand. Ruby braces herself and pulls at the same time Yang uses her other hand to push off the ground and it’s just enough effort to get her to sit up. The world spins for a moment but Yang re-orientates herself before she could do something stupid like fall over. It takes her a moment to realize Ruby is still trying to pull her up and Yang can’t help but smile, teasing._

_“Come on Rubes, lift with your legs.”_

_“You weigh a ton, Yang!”_

_“It’s all muscle, dear sister,” Yang jokingly flexes her free arm, “Maybe you should start training with me, get some muscles on those noodle arms of yours.”_

_“Excuse me? I'm plenty strong! I got muscles too!” Ruby grunts and Yang laughs before deciding to have mercy on her sister, adjusting her legs so she could push herself up at the same time Ruby pulled her. Her sister wasn’t wrong though- Ruby was strong. She had to be: lugging around that solid hunk of metal all day and then wielding it like it weighed nothing more than a paintbrush, and the world, her canvas._

_Yang just enjoyed teasing her._

_The height rush got her before Yang could ever hope to fight it off, and just like that, the momentum of Ruby’s pull keeps her going and she stumbles forward. But Ruby catches her, quickly moving her other arm to steady Yang by the waist and throwing Yang’s arm over her shoulder. From an outsider’s view, it almost looked like they were embracing, when really, Yang was leaning most of- if not all of- her weight onto her sister._

_To her surprise, Ruby held firm. Strong and sturdy in an astonishing way that Yang doesn’t quite know how to feel about. Don’t get her wrong, she was proud of Ruby, most definitely. But, it was just… This position was wrong. Yang was supposed to be holding Ruby up, being her unflinching pillar of strength for when she was feeling weak, not the other way around. Yang wasn’t supposed to be weak._

_(Almost as if to add salt to the wound she didn’t even know existed) Ruby says in a quiet voice to her, “I got your back, sis.”_

_There’s a smile to Ruby’s lips as she playfully pats Yang’s back as if to emphasize her words, and Yang can only stare for a moment, trying to catch the breath that was rudely robbed from her. She blinks, a bit dumbfounded, and wonders how it was possible for her to miss the moment Ruby had grown up this much if she claimed to always be watching her sister._

_“Hey, that’s my line,” Yang breathes out, a little jokingly and a little tight._

_“Well, I’m stealing it,” Ruby’s smile turns lively and Yang indulges her, reaching up with one hand and pinching at Ruby’s cheek._

_“Give it back, little thief.” Ruby let out a quiet grunt in response, tilting her head back and giving it a hard jerk to shake off Yang’s hand. Yang chuckles a bit at her sister’s pout and things feel a little better._

_She feels well enough to try and stand on her own, steadying her hand on Ruby’s shoulders before pushing away, swaying on her feet. Her sister hovers nervously, hands out and ready to catch her, and that image alone forces Yang to stand stern and not falter. She will not be the one who needed to be caught, she was only ever going to be the one who did the catching._

_Yang put her hands to her hips and took in a deep breath, pretending that it didn’t hurt her ribs to do so and hiding her flinch. Ah well, she’ll probably find an ice pack somewhere. It’ll be harder to find a quiet, secluded place to use it, but she’ll make do._

_“I mean it though.” There’s a solemness in Ruby’s voice that makes something in her chest twinge, and this time, she couldn’t hide the flinch. Ruby doesn’t comment on it, and instead, her eyes are sharp as steel even though her smile is soft as clouds. “I got your back.”_

_And maybe it’s childish of her to want to complain, but the ache in her chest isn’t going away and Yang never gets the chance to be whiny. “I’m supposed to have yours.”_

_“And you do!” Ruby reassures her in that bright way she does with everybody, always wanting others to feel good about themselves. Her smile grows and she crosses her arms slightly, and it takes Yang entirely too long for her to realize that Ruby was copying her- her stance at least- for whenever she gave her sister a pep talk. Arms crossed and eyes encouraging. (Again, she wonders how she could have been so blind to her sister growing up.) “But just cause you have my back doesn’t mean I can’t have yours.”_

_Yang can’t find an argument for that. And she hates that she can’t. She realizes the ache in her chest is something akin to panic, fear almost, and a strange mix of pride as well. Ruby was grown up now. No longer was she the shy, first-year at Beacon who wanted to follow her around everywhere because she was scared to be alone in a new place. No longer was she the little girl who wanted Yang to check her closet for monsters and read her stories before bed. No longer was she the one who cried every night and every day for mom to come home, weeping into Yang’s shoulder and leaning her weight into her because surely, without Yang, Ruby would fall apart._

_Ruby had grown up._

_(And a part of her mind, cruel and unforgiving, whispers that now, Ruby didn’t need her._

_Yang convinces herself that that’s fine- because Ruby was strong enough now to stand on her own two feet, and to be the shoulder people needed to lean on.)_

_She’s proud. Undoubtedly so, but…_

_It scares her too._

_Because maybe Ruby_ doesn’t _need her anymore, and that’s fine- it’s_ fine _\- it really is, but even more, maybe Ruby, brave enough to wander, would end up in trouble one day. And maybe, just maybe, because Yang wasn’t needed, she wouldn’t be close enough to help her._

_It feels like her sister is slipping through her fingers, like wind and rose petals, and shaping into this strong woman before her. Yang wonders what purpose she would have now, if she still fits in Ruby’s life at all anymore now that Ruby was strong enough alone without her big sister._

_Yang chuckles because it hurts and she has learned to smile through the pain and reaches forward to ruffle her sister’s wayward hair to make it even messier. A part of her almost can’t stand to look at Ruby’s face anymore, the proud and confident expression of maturity, because it frightens her. Ruby grumbles from her treatment, backing up slightly and swatting at her hands and going about fixing her hair (really though, it looked entirely the same.)_

_“When did you get so mature, Rubes?” The question leaves without her permission and when Ruby pauses, she knows it’s too late to take it back._

_“Wha- I’ve always been mature!” Ruby complains, and just like that, her little sister was back. It brings an ease to Yang’s heart and the pain in her chest lessens enough for her to tease._

_“Mhm, and tell me, who still laughs at fart jokes?” Yang raises a brow and smirks and Ruby giggles._

_“Tell me who still makes them,” her sister pokes at her side, thankfully missing a bruise hidden beneath clothes, and Yang laughed with her. (Yeah. It was fine. They were going to be okay.) Yang steps closer, throwing an arm over Ruby’s shoulder, and dramatically leans her weight into her again without warning. Ruby stumbles beneath her but manages to catch herself, grumbling incoherently but wrapping her arm around Yang’s waist and giving a side hug._

_Together, they began making their way to the rest of the group in the distance. Their friends and family and probably the people most responsible for Ruby’s growth. Yang smiles to herself, watching as Blake and Weiss talked and something the ex-heiress said made Blake chuckle. Yeah._

_They were going to be fine._

_“Love you, Ruby,” Yang says quietly before they join the others and lose their chance to, her heart swelling like the bumps and bruises from the bullets. It’s almost painful, and she can’t tell if it’s a good kind of pain or a bad one. She’ll decide later._

_“I love you too, Yang,” Ruby responds with a smile that looks eerily like one of relief and it almost makes Yang feel guilty. That one time she didn’t say it back would always be something that weighed on her mind- because she loved her sister, damn it, and she should do a better job at proving it._

_It’s a tiring job, being a big sister, but it’s one she would cherish for the rest of her life._

_“And I’ll always have your back,” Yang adds. She needs Ruby to know that- that she’ll always be there. Always one step behind her because Ruby was faster than her, but Yang was always going to catch up eventually._

_“I know you will,” Ruby grins, eyes crinkling slightly, and Yang almost lets out a sigh of relief. “And I’ll always have yours!”_

_Right. She would have to get used to it. Used to being okay with being vulnerable, with letting people worry about her._

_She will have plenty of time for it._

_And in the meantime, she will make sure nothing ever happened to Ruby._

**_..._ **

Yang thinks that’s what hurts most in all of this, knowing that she failed her sister. When Ruby needed her most, Yang wasn’t there.

Opening her eyes, Yang feels the all-too-familiar sting of tears in her eyes and she clenches her jaw, taking in another breath as she rubbed them away with her arm. Blake and Weiss must notice, but they don’t do anything because Yang doesn’t give them the chance before she begins walking forward, pace determined and unflinching.

She failed. She was supposed to protect Ruby, was supposed to always be there for her- Yang began jogging, hearing the others behind her all doing the same- and she failed. The devil had Ruby and now they were all in this hellhole, a horde of Grimm separating the two.

_I’m coming for you, Ruby._

Her pace quickens when the army of Grimm start charging as well. Somewhere behind her, someone lets out a battle cry that is picked up by a few others. Yang feels her months of anger and guilt and sorrow and frustrations and _everything_ builds up up up, clawing out of her throat and bashing against her gritted teeth, seeking freedom like a beast in a cage two sizes too small. And Yang lets it loose, letting out a roar so primal it was more terrifying, more powerful than the screeches and cries coming from the Grimm charging at them.

As they get closer, she sees them all now. None of them are any that she remembers seeing or reading about in books or learning about from the others. She can’t put the name to any of them. There are wolves, not Beowolves but actual _wolves_ , leading the charge for the monstrous army, slender and quick, and dotting amidst them appeared to be soulless creatures that looked like brawny hyenas. They let out laughter similar to them, black spit flying from their open mouths and their red eyes glow with bloodthirst.

There are other Grimm, more shapes and sizes just behind them, but the hyenas and wolves are the grunts apparently. Overhead, Yang could see the humanoid figures much more clearly, all fluttering calmly with four wings and awaiting for the foolish huntsmen and huntresses to come closer.

Yang runs faster, a sprint now, as the sound of the Grimm becomes louder and louder. _800 feet. 700 feet. 600 feet._ Her heart raced in her throat and her semblance buzzes, ready for activation and prepared to burn her and everything else. _500 feet._ _400 feet_. _300 feet._

She can’t see the castle anymore, nothing but a cloud of black ahead of her. The larger Grimm wait behind, and there’s almost something sentient in all of them. As if they were given specific orders for when to attack, where to station themselves. Yang doesn’t like any of it- but in hindsight, it doesn’t matter.

No one was going to stop them from reaching the castle and rescuing Ruby.

(She’s scared, she could feel it, fear running alongside adrenaline in her veins. But she wasn’t going to let that stop her either.)

It’s around the 200-100 feet mark that something shines on the ground within her path. Yang doesn’t stop or slow down, and when she sees the telltale sigil of Weiss’s crest, she speeds up, trusting her friend and whatever she planned on doing. Her eyes shift to red and she wonders which glare was scarier- hers or the Grimm’s.

When Yang steps onto the glyph, she feels a subtle push beneath her feet, just enough to be noticeable and not losing her momentum, Yang prepares for the moment the glyph would launch her forward. She jumps, higher and farther than she would have been able to accomplish by herself, over the army of wolves and hyenas. 

Airborne, with the silhouette of the full moon at her back, Yang stares down into the abyss of black and bares her teeth. _Nothing_ would stop her now. Her aura flashes as her semblance burns, fire and steam radiating off of her with a white-hot heat. It’s almost too much for her to bear.

And so, she lets go.

Energy gathering at her clenched fist, Yang growls deep within her throat, before shooting herself down and slamming into the ground below. The unlucky few mutts within her reach immediately disintegrate, the force of her blow breaking the unnatural earth and creating a crater extending around her. Fire and flames flicker around her as she stands up slowly, Grimm all around her, and for a moment, she’s alone and surrounded.

The Grimm don’t feel emotions, so they are unable to fear her (even though they really should) and begin to descend upon her. The closest wolf lunges, jaw open and mouth gaping and teeth sharp, and Yang catches its snout with one hand. And before it’s brethren could come and save it, the sound of gunshots rings out and they begin to fall one by one.

Yang lifts the wolf higher, sending a punch directly into its throat that sends it flying back into the crowd and she blows out a steaming breath. All around her now, her friends and allies charge forward, and in the blink of an eye, Weiss and Blake are at her sides again.

She glances at them, first at Weiss and then to Blake and she holds Blake’s gaze for a second longer. 

They, too, are angry. It makes Yang bare her teeth in a sharp grin, satisfied, excited- knowing she’s not alone. Knowing they are just as willing as her to go above and beyond for Ruby.

As one, the three charge forward into the fray, weapons drawn and anger guiding them.

**_..._ **

This is the beginning of the end.

The battle has begun.


	3. Dubstep Sequence 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everybody who decided to give this story a shot. I hope you're enjoying it. Now this part is... definitely the longest section so far, and it is also my first attempt at a RWBY fight scene (aginst Grimm) in general. It does get a little violent. Let me know how it goes. As always, if you see some mistakes, feel free to point them out so I can go back and fix them. Enjoy :)

**_[Dubstep Sequence]_ **

_Blake didn’t know if tonight could count as a victory or a defeat._

_On one hand, they had stopped Roman for the moment, destroying the Paladin that he had stolen and was most likely planning on using for something terrible. On the other, they hadn’t been able to stop him indefinitely, and just like so many times before, just like a rat always did, he managed to squeeze his way out of their grip- courtesy of one short, umbrella-wielding girl._

_There was definitely some disappointment there, but Blake supposes that they should accept what little victories they managed to achieve at the moment. Still, it stings a little, and there is a cloud of somberness, of bitterness, hovering in the air as she and her team pick their way back to Beacon. It’s still a long way yet, and as they walk the streets of Vale, there is a universal hush in the world._

_It almost felt wrong, for Ruby and Yang to be so quiet. Her leader and Weiss walk ahead of them, talking quietly to themselves and no doubt bouncing possible theories to each other. Or maybe just talking about nothing important, small talk to ease their minds from tonight’s events, checking in with one another as they were so often prone to do._

_Blake would have done the same,_ should have _been doing the same, but…_

_Once more, she glances out of the corner of her eye where Yang walks beside her, suspiciously silent. Her arms are held together by her midsection, and if Blake isn’t just seeing things that didn’t exist, there is a somewhat pained expression hidden behind the careful mask of nonchalance on her partner’s face. There is a slight grimace on her features, and Blake can only stand to look for a few seconds longer before glancing away._

_Yes, she had been aware of what Yang’s semblance was like. They had that conversation practically the same day they became partners. She knew it had been similar to Adam’s, at least on paper._

_But still._

_Knowing about it and_ seeing _it with her own eyes are two entirely different things and she had not been mentally prepared for it._

_Just like Adam, Yang stored energy from her opponent’s attacks, sending it right back to them in powerful strikes that almost guaranteed her victory (unless she missed). Just like Adam, Yang used her semblance only when it was at its most dangerous, its most lethal. Just like Adam, Yang looked so angry with the battle frenzy, appearing as though she didn’t care who got hurt, as long as someone did._

_It made Blake’s heart seize with panic that she tried her best to stamp down during the fight, nerves frayed and, currently, she held her hands into fists to keep them from shaking. Even now, being so close to Yang was nigh unbearable and she hates it, she_ hates it _. How Adam’s mark on her was still stinging, the wound he left behind still festering. Trauma, she knew, would not go away if she ignored it, and she hadn’t been exactly paying attention to it recently._

 _But most of all… She hates that because of this, this mental connection she made with Yang to Adam, she was_ scared _of Yang._

_Yang, who had never truly done anything to harm her in any way, shape, or form. Yang, who was all bright smiles and loud laughter and jolly teases and puns. Yang, her partner who went out of her way to get to know her with no ill intentions._

_And all because of_ one thing _, she was scared?_

 _She hates it. Hates just how much of a coward she is, how much Adam still hovered over her shoulder day-in and day-out. Sure, he had been a little easier to ignore, to move on from, because Beacon_ was _healing like she had wanted it to be. But it wasn’t enough. It was never going to be enough._

_She felt like running again, but she had no destination in mind now (at least before, when leaving Adam, she aimed to find sanctuary at Beacon and she had done it)._

_She hates it, she hates it, she hates herself, hates hates hates-_

_“Hey, you go on ahead, sis.”_

_Blake startles out of her self-loathing and dark thoughts when Yang speaks up, and she hopes that nobody notices her flinch. The group comes to a stop, Ruby peering over her shoulder before turning around with a curious frown, and Blake, too, looks at Yang with a raised brow. Her partner now stands with her hands casually at her hips, thumbs looping at the belt of her alternate outfit- Ruby insisted they wear different clothes- with ease. The flickers of discomfort she had seen before are now gone, replaced instead with a tired smile reflected by tired eyes._

_Something didn’t seem right, but Blake couldn’t exactly put her finger on it._

_“You sure?” Ruby asks, tilting her head to the side in that adorable fashion she always did- like a puppy so confused. Weiss doesn’t speak up, perhaps equally as drained as the rest of them, but she does regard Yang with a questioning look all the same. “What are you gonna do?”_

_Yang huffs a quiet laugh in response, lifting one arm to toss a thumb over her shoulder and Blake doesn’t know if Weiss and Ruby notice just how stiffly Yang moves. Like, it hurt her just to do that small movement. (If they do notice, they don’t say anything.)_

_“Gotta go pick up Bumblebee before someone snags her,” Yang gives that winning smile she always has, the carefree cloud that constantly surrounds her tarnished with blemishes of exhaustion and hidden discomfort. “Kinda left her in the middle of nowhere, didn’t remember till now.”_

_“Yang,” Ruby sighs with a hint of disappointment, “you have to be more careful. Dad’ll get mad if he finds out you lost your bike.”_

_“Which is_ why _I’m gonna go get it,” Yang shrugs in response and makes a shooing motion with her hands, “I’ll catch up, won’t be long.”_

_“Promise?” Ruby asks even though she’s already starting to walk backward, Weiss simply rolling her eyes and moving ahead of the pack. Blake makes a step to follow but pauses._

_“I promise,” Yang extends a thumb out to Ruby before her eyes fall on Blake (and Blake has to try very hard not to imagine them blazing red like before). “Wanna come with?”_

_And Blake could take the obvious out given to her, a part of her- the part that can’t help but replay the image of a furious Yang with fiery hair and burning red eyes over and over in her mind- really wants to. Knowing her partner, Yang wouldn’t blame her; they were all tired after all._

_“Sure,” Blake says before she could second-guess herself, because there’s something in the way Yang is holding herself, all stiff and straight, that doesn’t settle well with her, despite the lingering remnants of fear deep within her bones. Yang looks about a few minutes from passing out anyway, so it probably wouldn’t be the smartest idea to leave her alone in the middle of Vale at night. Sure, Yang could take care of herself, she was more than capable after all, but…_

_“Be careful you two,” Ruby waves from where she is, just about to turn a corner that Weiss already disappeared around, “And we’ll probably pass out when we get back, so goodnight!”_

_“Night!” Yang calls back, and just like that, Ruby turns the corner and they’re officially alone. Blake holds Yang’s gaze with her own for a handful of moments before having to look away again, shuffling her feet, and she feels a shuddering breath escape her lips. It felt as though she was physically preparing herself for… what? To be hit? Yelled at? She didn’t entirely know._

_“Come on,” Yang says, and there is a modicum of disappointment in her voice that Blake can’t see on her face before her partner is turning away, moving without another word back in the direction they came from. Blake scrambles to keep up, a slight step behind Yang and it isn’t until they have turned a handful of different corners and walked down many different streets that she realizes she has fallen into hauntingly familiar habits._

_She always used to walk a step behind Adam. Never beside him or a step in front of him,_ especially _if he was angry or in one of his more dour moods. She was still close enough though because he always hated if she lagged behind too much. Slowed them down, he always said. He was the trailblazer and she was the follower. (She had no right to walk ahead of him.)_

_With Yang, it was different. Yang either always let her go first or always slowed down so they were side-by-side. It was strange, to walk by someone and not worry if they would lash out at you._

_It was different, and yet still, she was acting exactly as she did with Adam._

_Some things never changed with her, it seems._

_It’s only when the silence has reached an uncomfortable high, only when they have reached a relatively hidden alley, that Yang brings them to a stop. Blake freezes behind her, standing to attention and focusing all of her senses on her partner, ready for the telltale twitch of anger._

_Yang turns to her, shadows of the building behind her shrouding her face but Blake can see it clearly with her vision… can clearly see the frown on Yang’s face, the look of dejection in her eyes, and the way her shoulders drop in defeat._

_“Blake,” Yang says her name like she’s worried that alone would scare her away, and Blake immediately knows that she hadn’t done a very good job hiding her sudden fear. Yang shifts her weight between her legs, opening her mouth before closing it again with a strained breath and settling for leaning her back against the wall behind her. There’s a concern in her eyes as she murmurs in an anxious voice, “Is… everything okay?”_

_“Why…” Blake licks her lips and glances away, bringing one hand to the opposite wrist just to busy herself. “What makes you think something isn’t?”_

_“You’re quiet,” Yang says as if it’s obvious, and for some reason, that scares Blake too. (Yang_ knowing _her, it scares her.)_

_“I’m always quiet,” Blake responds with a low chuckle and a shrug, hoping that her normal nonchalance could outshine her nervousness. Redirecting the attention away from her, Blake makes a show of looking around, “Your bike’s not here. Did you forget where you left it?”_

_“I don’t care about the bike,” Yang takes a step forward, so assured that it scares Blake too because even if Yang doesn’t say it, Blake could see the unsaid words in her eyes: **I care about you**_. That was dangerous. Sure, she thinks she lucked out getting a partner who was so easy to adjust to, so caring about everyone over her own needs, but Blake was never supposed to care _in return. She was never supposed to want to be cared for._

_When coming to Beacon and knowing they had to have partners, she never intended to get extremely close to them. Blake would have just been happy to co-exist until their four years together were up, and then go solo elsewhere. Perhaps that was a cruel way of thinking, but it was necessary. She didn’t want a repeat of Adam- because, at one point, she had cared for him too._

_(She thinks she still does, that a part of her always will, and that fucking terrifies her above all else. That no matter what distance separated them, even if it was life and death itself, that there would always be a part of her that belonged to him and she will never be whole again.)_

_She was never meant to care for these people- for Ruby and Weiss and Jaune and Pyrrha and Nora and Ren and, and…_

_Yang._

_She wasn’t supposed to care for Yang. But she had. She does. And now… And now,_

_Yang was reminding her too much of Adam and Blake was worried that it wouldn’t be long until they were inseparable in her mind, to her eyes._

_“Blake,” Yang murmurs her name with so much caution it was rather heartwarming. There’s unease in her purple eyes and Blake is curious as to why the panic is only increasing, why it looks like Yang is scared she would just walk away right now and not return. “Talk to me, please. Did I… Did I do something wrong?”_

_There’s so much hesitance in her voice it was both worrying, in and of itself, and also touching. Just how concerned Yang was. Wanting to fix it right away. (Immediately assuming it was her fault?)_

_How could Blake possibly explain that something Yang had no control over frightened her?_

_It felt wrong to even think it. Blake lets out a quiet sigh, shifting her eyes down to the ground and biting the tip of her tongue for a moment._

_“No,” Blake sighs through her teeth, a dying hiss, and her ears strain against her bow with the desire to flatten in discomfort. “It’s- It’s not important, Yang. Can we just find your bike and go?”_

_“Not important?” Yang’s brow furrows and the look on her face is so appalled Blake thinks she might have offended her somehow. Yang takes another step forward and Blake is her antithesis as she backs away, stiffening up and her eyes go a little wide as she feels the cement wall at her back. The feeling of being trapped swells at the pit of her stomach and makes her body tremble and she can’t help it at all. It’s starting to eat her alive. “Blake, you_ are _important- and I want to know why it looks like_ my partner _is scared of me.”_

_Fuck. She hadn’t done a very good job of hiding it after all, and she curses Yang for being ever so observant. How anybody could think Yang was unaware of everything was beyond Blake. She knew just how much her partner was conscious of the people around her. (Or, maybe, Yang was just mindful of Blake specifically?)_

_(She didn’t know whether that thought thrilled her or frightened her even more.)_

_The sudden alarm must have appeared on her face, because when she finally brings herself to lift her eyes to Yang’s- because Adam hated when she didn’t look at him- she’s confused for a moment why Yang has an expression on her face like Blake had just stabbed her with Gambol Shroud. She doesn’t have to say the words- that she_ is _scared of Yang- for her partner to hear them and she wonders if they echo in Yang’s head._

_There is a horrified look on Yang’s face before her entire demeanor breaks, shoulders dropping and eyes going wide, jaw loosening and mouth opening for a moment. She takes a step back immediately, as if being near Blake burned, and that only makes the ache grow stronger._

_“Are you…” Yang flounders for words and Blake wants to apologize and apologize and_ apologize _until sorry is the only word she knows. It’s happened a few times before, with Adam, when she repeated the phrase ‘I’m sorry’ until it lost all meaning. Yang’s back meets the wall again until they’re just standing across from each other, nothing more but a stride or two away from the other but the distance feels uncrossable. There is so much heartbreak in Yang’s eyes, Blake thinks she can see the cracks on her beating heart through her gaze alone. (They’re there, right on Yang’s face.) “You’re scared of me?”_

_“No,” Blake responds immediately, instinctually, trying to make this better before the shock and heartache could shift into anger. She wraps her arms around herself to hide how much her hands are shaking. “No, Yang, I-”_

_“Don’t lie to me please,” Yang utters in a weak voice, and the plea in the sentence seems so out of place next to what was meant to be a command. Her tone is all wrong too. She should be yelling, shouting, spitting at her, not… not this. Yang shakes her head a bit, “Don’t lie, Blake.”_

_“I-I’m sorry,” Blake whispers, pressing her back against the wall even though there was nowhere else to go. She figured, long ago, that if she tried hard enough, she could eventually meld into it and disappear. She would prefer for the wall to swallow her whole as opposed to the guilt and the terror._

_It hasn’t worked yet, and she’s tried countless times, but who knows- maybe this time will work._

_Yang remains quiet, and the tension that fills the space between them presses them even further apart. It damn near feels like she’s losing Yang and for a moment of clarity through her fear and trauma and past mistakes and bad memories, she feels panic because she_ doesn’t _want to lose Yang._

_This is why she never wanted to care._

_She has grown too attached to Yang, to the others. She wonders if she can be anything without them now. (She’s terrified to find out.)_

_Yang looks in her direction but Blake knows she’s not actually seeing her. It appears as though she’s trapped in her own memories and her own thoughts and Blake can do nothing but look back at her. Her fingers shake and she wants to be the one brave enough to take that first step to close the distance, but she can’t._

_She can’t because she’s a coward who runs. She didn’t entirely know why she wasn’t running now, wonders what exactly was making her stay._

_(But she looks at Yang and finds her answer.)_

_“Can you tell me why?” Yang speaks up after a long enough moment that Blake thinks she’s forgotten what language is. Her eyes focus against Yang’s trembling amethyst and Blake wonders that- if anger made her eyes red, would sorrow make her eyes blue? She stares, curious if her query would be answered before realizing that Yang was asking her a question._

_“Why…?”_

_“Why you’re scared of me?” Yang makes a face as though the very words were bitter on her tongue. Blake grimaces slightly, uncomfortable, and Yang- ever the one to make sure everyone else was comfortable before herself- notices this and adds, “As much as you’re willing to tell me? You can leave as much out as you need to, I just… I just want to know so I don’t do it again.”_

_And Blake doesn’t entirely mean to, but she lets out a small laugh at that. It’s completely humorless and shouldn’t count as a laugh at all. Yang’s frown deepens and again, she looks like Blake stabbed her and Blake clenches her teeth because she’s just so bad at… whatever this was. (Healthy relationships. Forming them, identifying them,_ maintaining _them.)_

_“That’ll be hard as a huntress,” Blake’s words come out entirely too bitter and she’s aware she’s beating around the bush. Yang waits for her to explain, patient as ever, and Blake decides then and there that she doesn’t deserve Yang (she had inklings earlier that she didn’t deserve her, but right now, it confirmed her suspicions). Her eyes shift away again and she lets out another humorless laugh._

_She doesn’t have to explain. She could just say no and Yang, she thinks, would be fine with that. It will tear Yang apart, no doubt, and it would probably destroy them completely but… she doesn’t have to explain._

_She doesn’t have to do this._

_But she does anyway, and she doesn’t really know why._

_“During the fight just now,” Blake presses herself further against the wall, closing her eyes because looking at Yang while saying this was not going to be easy. “Watching you get hit like that-”_

_“I was fine,” Yang says because she doesn’t understand the real reason for Blake’s fear. “My aura protected me and my semblance-”_

_“I wasn’t scared that you were knocked down,” Blake squeezes her arms tighter around herself, desperate to hold herself together because no one else was going to. It’s difficult talking through the clog in her throat, the words somehow escaping through her clenched teeth. The world and Yang hold their breaths in anticipation and Blake questions that if she waits long enough, would Yang pass out and save her from having to talk? She waits for a second, two, extending to a minute before the words spill from her mouth._

_With a quivering voice, Blake admits as though she’s confessing to a crime;_

_“I was afraid that you got back up.”_

_Her eyes open and she turns to find solace in Yang’s eyes. Her eyes, which look so baffled for a moment before the words catch up to her, anguish making tears spring forward._

_But Blake’s not done, because now that she has spoken, she can’t seem to stop, “You got back up like nothing happened and you were so strong and aggressive after it and you, you… Your semblance, it’s just… It reminds me of someone that I don’t want to remember. Please,_ please _leave it at that Yang, I can’t-”_

_She can’t say anything else, because she’s on the verge of spilling everything- about Adam and her times in the White Fang and everything else- and she can’t do that. Not to Yang, and certainly not now. There was no place in her life here at Beacon for her trauma, no room for her problems._

_“You’re scared of me… because of my semblance?” Yang murmurs, mostly to connect the dots more so than to ask for clarification. Blake nods anyway, not really knowing if Yang actually saw her doing it, and stands with her arms around her and shoulders drawn together, bracing herself for the inevitable outburst._

_There’s shame in her stance and Blake wishes now more than ever for the wall at her back to open a hole for her to throw herself in. It would be so much easier than having this conversation._

_“Blake,” Yang whispers and even with her cat ears, Blake can barely hear her. She doesn’t lift her gaze, doesn’t really think she can, but when Yang asks with a beg in her voice, “Please, look at me,” Blake finds some sort of will to do just that._

_Yang’s eyes are so gentle, even with their sorrow. There’s a shine of understanding and at the very least, she knows just how difficult this must be for Blake to talk about. So, just as she expected, Yang doesn’t press for more._

_“I will never hurt you, you know?” Yang breathes out in a barely-there voice and Blake wants,_ wants _to believe her. She really does. But Adam said the same thing once, twice, many different times and he did nothing_ but _hurt her. He was still torturing her, even if he wasn’t here._

_Still, Yang’s expecting an answer, so Blake murmurs unconvincingly in return, “I know.”_

_And Yang can only frown more and Blake just wants this entire night to end already so they can wake up tomorrow like nothing happened. Like this conversation didn’t occur and they could go back to their jokes and teasing and banter. She disappointed Yang and now she has no idea how to make it better._

_Maybe she really did deserve to be alone. To run for the rest of her life and never be able to stop. Either she hurt others or Adam hurt them because of her, she didn’t want the same thing happening to the people here._

_They were too_ good _\- maybe not entirely pure, but purer than she was. They didn’t deserve her baggage._

 _“Can I show you something?” Yang asks after another long moment of tense silence, and Blake looks at her curiously because it’s confusing to her why her partner was still trying to fix_ her _mistakes, why she didn’t immediately just give up. But if there was one thing Yang was, it certainly was tenacious. Her eyes dart to Yang, who steps away from the wall until she’s somewhere in the middle of it and Blake before stopping. Blake just waits and doesn’t answer, pressed against the wall as she was and curious to see if it would break first before her._

_Strangely enough, Yang undoes the belt that holds her jacket together, letting it hang loose before reaching down with shaking fingers of her own and gingerly lifting the ends of her jacket to expose the barest hints of skin. Blake reels back slightly, face warming immediately and she doesn’t know why and is just about to ask Yang what she was doing and why she was taking off her clothes before her voice is robbed from her in an instant._

_There, on the expanse of Yang’s toned stomach, sits a harsh shade of blues and greens and purples that shouldn’t belong to fair skin. There are multiple bruises and lacerations and they are all so close to each other it just looks like one massive blemish. Yang holds her top halfway up, doing a slow spin and Blake winces because Yang’s back is even worse to look at. If she looks closely enough, she thinks she can see exactly where she was first rammed into the stone pillar and then punched by the Paladin’s fist._

_It’s horrifying to look at, but Blake can hardly bring herself to turn away. There’s something about the bruises and the markings that give her strength, and maybe this was Yang’s purpose for showing her. To prove that Yang was damaged, very much so, and therefore… Not a threat._

_“Yang,” Blake says her name without even realizing it, escaping her mouth as natural as a breath, and before she can register herself moving, her feet are taking her closer to her partner and away from the wall. The distance between them reduces to zero and Blake has the morbid desire to reach out and touch the bruises on Yang’s skin, to prove to herself that this was real with tangible senses. So, she does; fingers surprisingly steady as she places them at the base of Yang’s spine with hardly any pressure._

_Even so, Yang draws in a sharp inhale, of both pure surprise and unmasked affliction, wincing, and Blake stills. She can’t help but wonder if even the gentle breeze of the night air is enough to bring her pain or if the touch of clothing against skin was enough to make her want to fall to her knees. Yang shifts, turning halfway around and Blake’s fingers remain on her, skimming across her lower back to her hip and Blake lets them linger, her own aura pulsing- as if she could_ possibly _hope to cease Yang’s torture with her touch alone. Yang makes no move to force them away either, holding her jacket up with one hand and the other hangs uselessly at her side._

_Purple eyes meet gold and now Blake doesn’t have the innate desire to look away._

_Yang’s gaze is so soothing, she has a hard time comparing it to the mental image of her ferocious glare and bared teeth from earlier. The burning red could have just been her imagination because the purple she sees now is so tender it could not have been further from that anger. It comforts Blake and she finally finds the will to pull her hand back, eyes drifting down to the myriad of colors that shouldn’t be there._

_And when Yang speaks, there is so much conviction in her voice that Blake has no choice but to believe her- trauma and trust issues be damned, “You have nothing to fear from me.”_

Look _, the little display of her damage and marring seems to have said,_ I’m fragile. I get injured. I am not invincible, and therefore, you can beat me.

There’s only so much damage I can take before I break.

 _“Blake,” Yang slowly raises her free hand, approaching with the caution one does to hold a butterfly, and, when Blake makes no move to flinch away, cups her jaw and runs a single thumb against her cheek. Their eyes meet and Blake is tethered to them, she can’t look away. Yang’s voice trembles with sincerity, desperation as she_ begs _Blake to believe her; “I will_ never _hurt you.” She pauses for a moment and winces again, hand withdrawing, “And if for some reason I did, I would never be able to live with myself for it.”_

 _Perhaps it is the second part that makes Blake think she can let down her guard and believe her partner’s words. She feels foolish and guilty for a moment, blaming Yang and fearing Yang for something she had virtually no control over. You didn’t get to choose your semblance, it was a manifestation of the_ you _that even you didn’t know about._

 _And Yang’s semblance wasn’t entirely like Adam’s either. Adam never had bruises like these, wounds from battle because of his semblance. His was always safer, less risky with a vessel. Perhaps his body_ could _be the vessel, but it wasn’t. He didn’t want to get mutilated just so he could hit back harder._

_But Yang..._

_Maybe Yang had no other choice_ but _to use her body as a channel, maybe she hadn’t figured out how to use an object instead, or maybe she did know and decided that this was the way it should be. For her to suffer and be bruised and battered and beaten just for her to get the strength to fight back._

_If she was going to hurt someone, then she was going to be wounded first._

_It was a worrying thought, but for some reason, it comforted Blake. (She felt guilty for that, but right now, Blake was too tired to mull over much guilt and shame and fear any longer.)_

_“Does Ruby know?” Blake directs the conversation slowly away from herself, and Yang blinks at her before a hint of a smile appears on her lips, relief in her eyes as she lets out a heavy sigh._

_“Nope,” Yang says much too casually for a situation like this before letting her jacket fall back down, clipping the belt back on, and adjusting her clothes to hide the bruises. If someone looked at her, they wouldn’t be able to tell just how broken and damaged she was beneath the jacket and charming grin. (But she had shown Blake…) “And I would appreciate it if this stays between us.”_

_Blake frowns, because something tells her hiding this wasn’t entirely healthy, but then again, what did she know about healthy methods of coping? Who was she to tell Yang what to do?_

_“Of course,” Blake promises even though she feels like she shouldn’t, but Yang smiles so she thinks it’s okay._

_“Thank you,” Yang nods her head before looking around the alley they were in, frowning to herself as her brows pinched in confusion. “Hmm. We’ll have to backtrack cause I have_ no idea _where we are. Come on, I could really get some sleep.”_

_And Blake just about facepalms at her words and she can’t help the small smile that pulls at her lips at the ridiculousness of it all. With a fond shake of her head, she falls into step behind Yang for a moment. Yang, as she predicts, waits for her a little until she catches up, walking at her side and Blake feels much more at ease now._

_This didn’t fix them entirely. She didn’t know how she was going to react to seeing Yang’s semblance again- because it was bound to happen eventually, considering they were training to be_ huntresses _\- and she couldn’t promise she wouldn’t freak out._

_The idea of it still scared her, just a little, just enough to make it unsettling._

_(She was going to have to spend the next few days tearing the image of Yang and Adam far apart, just like they should have been.)_

_She couldn’t blame Yang for any of this either. She was just going to have to learn to accept it eventually- because it wasn’t going anywhere and neither was Yang._

_Blake hoped the day would come when she could stop being scared._

**_…_ **

Blake has never felt more grateful for Yang’s semblance than before this night.

She knew it was going to be chaotic in this place the moment that she saw the wide valley and the army of Grimm in the distance; and the sight of it had scared her because, with the wildness that would come with the fight, it would be easy to lose track of Yang.

But Yang was always the brightest person in the room: whether that be amongst their peers at a social gathering, or here, in the middle of a swarm of monsters. 

She was the most beautiful person there was, it was impossible to _not_ be drawn towards her. Both their fellow huntsmen and huntresses and the creatures of Grimm could agree on that and Blake is a moth willingly going to that bright light (hoping it’s not a flame that would burn her alive and knowing this fire will only ever protect her).

So now, in the midst of the chaos of wolves and hyenas- the foot soldiers apparently- Blake has an easy time spotting that splash of yellow she has grown so fond of in the middle of all-consuming black. She moves mechanically, swiftly falling into a routine and into the familiar dance of battle that came with fighting Grimm.

The mutts try to lunge for her each time, this next wolf still dumb enough to not figure out that the clone she left behind was not the real thing before she’s bringing down one half of Gambol Shroud into the back of its head, right at the base where the neck meets the shoulder. The wolf hardly lets out a dying groan before it’s vanishing, and Blake instinctively takes that moment of split-second peace to glance around, only relaxing once she sees a flash of Yang’s golden hair. 

And then, a hyena is snapping at her, and Blake curls her lips in disgust before she lifts her leg and kicks at the Grimm’s snout. It backs up more in confusion than pain, perhaps unfamiliar with its prey fighting back, and she twitches her wrist, the thinner katana blade of Gambol Shroud shifting back for her to shoot the thing at point-blank range. She’s sparing with her bullets, ever mindful that she only has a few extra rounds within her pockets, not including the special dust ones Weiss had given her (she could always ask for more from her allies, but some of them needed it more than she did).

The hyena takes three bullets in the forehead before it wobbles in place, falling to the side with a dying groan and the fading echo of a chilling laugh that makes the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. These Grimm were strange, unfamiliar to her, and no doubt to the rest of them as well. There is a lull in the frenzy of the fight that she uses to shift around, turning her gaze and taking note of everything and everyone.

They had carved a sort of path straight down the middle, a few teams and partners and solo-huntsmen fanning out in a larger area to clear up the stragglers. A short distance in front of her, Blake can see that they were just about reaching the end of the first wave of grunts, the wolves and hyenas coming less and less frequently and a look ahead shows them coming to a halt, gathering by different Grimm and pacing restlessly, drooling and panting and wanting to fight.

It unsettles her. These Grimm were fighting less like the mindless monsters she was familiar with and more like trained beasts, given command of when to charge and when to wait. (It’s not difficult to assume who their master is, and Blake wonders if Salem was currently watching over them all at that moment- if she was capable of seeing through the eyes of her dark creations).

Noise buzzes all around her and Blake shakes with the volume of it all. It’s one part thrilling- hearing all the exhilarating battle cries and blades slicing through Grimm and bullets flying through the air from her allies and friends- and it’s equal parts horrifying- hearing the echoing laughter and screeches and howls of the monsters all around them, the distant sounds of even more with the not-so-secret promise of bombarding them. The sound of people beginning to fall, terrified shouts of names being called, partners losing each other in the chaos, and the occasional sound of a dying cry. She wonders how many have fallen already, how many were injured, and that thought drives her to immediately look for that splash of yellow again.

Yang’s not far from where she currently stands, going toe-to-toe with a brand new Grimm as opposed to the grunts. This one is cat-like, reminding her of the rare times she came across a jaguar in the jungles of her hometown so long ago before they all went into better hiding from the monsters. Muscular and stout and ready to tear into Yang. It lets out a caterwaul each time it lunges with alarming speed and frightening claws and saber-sharp teeth to her partner, but Yang is quick on her feet and swift to step just out of its range each and every time. If the circumstances weren’t what they were, Blake could convince herself that Yang was dancing with the thing.

There is something so mesmerizing and frightening at the same time with watching her partner fight. Her focus is intense and she moves so fluidly, each one of her actions telling of just how long she had trained and continues to train her technique of fighting close-ranged battles. Quite frankly, it’s distracting, and Blake has to shake herself out of her stupor and use a last-second clone to avoid being bitten by an overeager wolf.

She brings her blade up, grunting as the wolf’s paws press against the flat of her weapon, trying to snap over the blade to her head and Blake just about hisses back in response, gritting her teeth, bringing the other half of Gambol Shroud straight up into the wolf’s chest. It lets out a sound between a growl and a whimper before she somehow finds the strength to push it onto its back, standing over it with the blade still in it and Blake brings the sheath down to its neck, sawing through the muscles with a bit of effort before it starts to dissipate beneath her.

She lets out a controlled breath through her mouth, inhaling the not-enough air as evenly as she can before she turns, dual-wielding, prepared for the next onslaught. This was going to be a dangerous game of preserving stamina, aura, and overall energy. If they really did expect to fight Salem or _someone_ , anyone, in the castle- because Blake doubted there wouldn’t be any resistance at all, as much as she wished that’s how it would be- then they needed to move quickly and not waste their time and energy here with the Grimm. 

She’s just about to look towards Yang and Weiss again- to tell them they should think of a better strategy than just barreling straight through or find a way to do it quicker- when she’s suddenly being lifted into the air. A surprised shout escapes from her lips, a shout that quickly shifts to one of muted misery as she feels claws piercing into her arm and shoulder. Whatever had grabbed her moves _fast_ , the air rushing by her, and Blake twists and turns and holds desperately onto her blades to keep from dropping them. At last, she’s able to see what had snatched her, and the skull-like face of the humanoid Grimm she had seen earlier in the air meets her gaze with frightening clarity. 

Black feathers drift into her line of sight, clouding her as the four-winged Grimm brings her higher and into the swarm with the rest of them in the sky. It holds her hostage, claws digging into her and keeping her steady as the rest of its brethren descend upon her with terrifying talons. It hurts being slashed, no doubt, but her aura fends off the worst and Blake has a moment of hesitation. She could use her semblance to get away from this, easily, but as she already examined- they still had a _long_ way to go to reach the castle. If she used her semblance now, sure it didn’t take a lot of her aura, but the gradual usage would become relevant in the long run.

A bird-like screech comes from the winged monsters in front of her, deafening to her ears and Blake uses the one holding her as leverage to at least lift her legs enough to kick the one spiraling to her away. She was stuck between a rock and a hard place: if she used her semblance now, it would drain her aura, but if she _didn’t_ use it, the attacks she was receiving drained it even faster.

Cursing to herself, Blake narrows her eyes, timing it just right so the next humanoid Grimm that reached towards her would ram right into the one that held her. And just like that, she feels herself falling. And she quickly thinks that _maybe_ she miscalculated just how high up she was, just how deep into the swarm of flying Grimm she had been in.

She’s falling, but she’s bumping into creatures on the way down, wings batting at her with bruising force and a few stray claws trying to reach for her. Blake twists, bringing her blade up and doing her best to swipe at the next one, but there are too many. She was good at maneuvering in the air- had spent a better part of her life falling from high places- so it’s not too difficult to adjust, but there are just so many there’s no truly safe place to be that wouldn’t require a tremendous amount of clones to reach on her part. Feathers block her vision, like crows and ravens waiting to pick at her corpse, the raptor screeches of the winged beasts the only sound she could hear all around her, and it feels like she’s right in the middle of a storm cloud.

One creature rams into her hard enough in the back for her to lose her grip on the sheath of Gambol Shroud, very nearly losing both parts entirely, the bladed edge flying into the swarm, and she quickly loses sight of it. Another grabs at her, halting her descent by the ankle, and for a moment, she’s suspended upside down. She curls upward, muscles flexing and tensed as she lets out a harsh breath, slicing at the thing’s wrist with her remaining blade and forced to use another one of her clones to get away when it proves to have a much higher resistance than she initially hoped, considering how thin and spindly those arms actually looked.

She can’t tell if she’s almost at the end of the swarm cloud, she thinks that maybe she hadn’t made any progress at all. The darkness and black feathers choke her, shroud her, and Blake has a moment of panic because she can’t entirely see in this darkness. Her night vision was an innate thing, just like her ears, and Blake had never known what true darkness was, had never seen it before because she could still see in the night. She had always wondered what it was like, not being able to see in the dark. 

And now, she’s surrounded by it, she can’t see anything, and she doesn’t like it at all. She wants to call out for Yang because Yang was always there whenever she said her name, but realistically, she knows it would be nigh impossible for her partner to hear her now. 

A sudden realization rams into her harder than the beating wings, pierces her heart more than the claws of the beasts do.

They had promised they wouldn’t go far from each other. 

And now Blake already broke it, and the night had only just begun.

When another harpy grabs at her, Blake has just about had it up to _here_ with them. These _things_ had forced her to break her promise. They had covered her in darkness, out of sight and out of earshot- out of existence entirely, it feels. With bared teeth, Blake reaches into her pocket where the special cartridges of dust Weiss had given her rest, slipping it into her weapon and narrowing her eyes at the one currently holding her by her clothes. 

If nobody could see her in here, with the swarm of black feathers and monstrous humans, then she was going to _make_ them see her.

What better way to bring attention to herself than causing an explosion? (Perhaps Yang was rubbing off on her.)

(If she was in a storm cloud and these creatures were the darkness, then she will be the lightning that tears straight through them in a burst of brightness.)

With a steadying breath, fire dust clicked into place, Blake reaches deep into herself, to the corners of her soul too frightened to feel pain and the source of her shadowy semblance, and drags it forward. Gambol Shroud hums in sync with its master, practically vibrating with the energy. It was ready and so was she.

Pulling the trigger, Blake feels herself falling again, free from the clutches of claws and descending at a fast rate. Above her, left behind in a very confused Grimm’s hands, was a more solid version of herself, an exact replica; but the visage only lasts for a moment before the skin withers away to reveal the fiery outline instead, a core of flame at the heart of her clone. It swells and festers, as fire often does- wanting release and freedom to wreak havoc- and reaches its breaking point in a split second.

Blake keeps her eyes facing down, body streamlined as she often made herself to be when falling, and all she could feel at her back is the all-consuming heat as she is just out of range of the blast. The dying and frightened cries of the feathered Grimm is music to her ears, the remaining harpies still within her sight throwing their arms over themselves to shield from the bright light produced by the fiery explosion. She falls straight through them like an arrow flying true, and at last, she’s out of the storm cloud and in the free air.

And _wow_ was she very high up.

The wind whips at her face as she drops from the sky, eyes watering, and Blake takes the moment of weightlessness to glance off towards the castle. There is still a long way to go- and different flying Grimm that looked like bats given a human shape dot the sky still- and though they have made considerable distance, Blake knew that if they didn’t think of a plan quickly, they would run out of resources long before reaching their destination. And sure, there were enough people to fight for them so they could rest and just take the cleared out path but… Perhaps it was pride that didn’t want other people fighting for her.

This was her fight, _their_ fight- Yang and Weiss and Blake, Nora and Jaune and Ren- and the only way they would allow it to happen would be if they were the ones leading the charge.

They weren’t about to hide behind the masses. Blake had done enough hiding and running away in her life.

The ground comes ever closer still, and Blake twists mid-air, hoping to at least slow her fall a bit. She would have to time it right to get the most out of the single clone she plans on using, she decided she had already used a considerable amount of aura just trying to get out of that mess up above.

All along the ground, colors clash together to try and fend off the horde of black. Beings of light fight against denizens of darkness and Blake has to wonder if they would be enough after all. From up here, it seems hopeless. The swarm had been considerably smaller than she had initially thought it would be, but that by no means made it an easy force to deal with. They were still outnumbered, and it was anybody’s guess as to how strong the larger Grimm that had yet to move would be.

_Can we do this?_

Wouldn’t that be the worst part of it all? To come so far, to come _this close_ , only to fail and not even reach the castle?

What if this was all hopeless? What if Ruby was already- _Stop._ She shouldn’t think like that; but considering the circumstances, it was damn near impossible not to. She had broken her promise to stay near Yang, she couldn’t remember the last time she saw her partner, and for all she knew, Yang could already be dead-

“ _Blake_!”

Like the beacon in a lighthouse piercing through a squall of blackness and devastating twilight, Yang’s voice reaches her before the muffled sound of shotgun bursts do and Blake innately knows she is close to home. Her body instinctively turns to the sound of her partner, always seeking her she was, heart _aching_ hearing such fear and panic in her tone, and Blake braces herself for a moment when she sees a yellow comet hurtling directly towards her- fast and determined and unafraid. 

They impact and _fuck_ it hurts- quite a bit- and Blake damn near loses her grip on the remaining half of Gambol Shroud, but she was home home home with the smell of the hearth and sweet citrus and wisps of smoke and that’s all that mattered. Her free hand clutches at Yang’s back, arms wrapped around her own body and they spiral a bit off course from her initial fall, the remaining distance relatively small and Blake would have been worried about Yang’s desire to take the damage for her, but the familiar _shing_ of Weiss’s glyphs reaches her ears and their fall becomes that much slower, almost jarringly so, as the gravity glyph captures them in a safety net. 

They meet the ground- well, Yang meets the ground, and Blake lands on top of her. Blake didn’t realize how much she was shaking until she was pushing herself up to her knees, breathless and aching and the damage she had received from the harpies and their sharp claws left her trembling (and colliding with Yang hadn’t helped matters). Yang remains on her back for a moment, panting and breathless, and Blake is curious as to just how quickly and how far Yang had run to catch her. They were guarded for a moment, strange purple crystals loosely shielding them from another wave, and even if they weren’t, they had landed somewhere in the middle of some of their allies. The few people around glance in their direction curiously, no doubt seeing their fall, but Blake ignores them all as her world only focuses on Yang…

Her partner, who was still on her back and completely motionless.

The sight unnerves her, freezes something deep within her lungs and heart and it feels like a piece of her shrivels and dies, seeing Yang like that, and she feels entirely too off-balanced with the world off its axis. _No, no, no. She can’t be-_

“Yang, are you okay?” She places her blade on the ground- some part of her screaming that she shouldn’t have done that because they were _surrounded by Grimm_ , but she ignores that voice- and reaches out with both hands to Yang’s shoulders, trying to hide the panic within her voice and not caring whether she succeeded or not. (She didn’t.) Her fingers shake and she thinks her bones might break if they continue to do so. Blake’s voice rises a bit in pitch, high and cracking and so, so terrified. “Yang- _oof_!”

Darting up from the ground faster than she could process, Blake is suddenly pulled into a bone-crushing hug that makes her wince a bit and Yang’s fingers dig into her shoulder blades. A breath of relief would escape her if the wind wasn’t knocked out of her. Her partner hides her face against her neck and Blake doesn’t know whether it was her that was shivering now or Yang (most likely both). She blows out a ragged breath with what little air she has in her lungs and just about sobs in relief before wrapping her own arms around Yang, just as tight and just as desperate.

“Am _I_ okay?” Yang squeezes her just the slightest bit, voice tight and cracking and incredulous before she pulls away and Blake just about wants to cry seeing her partner with so much fear and worry in her eyes. She looks baffled, as though she can’t possibly comprehend why Blake was worried about her at all, and Blake mirrors it. She repeats in a disbelieving tone, “Am _I_ okay?! I just saw _you_ fall from the _sky_ , Blake, and you’re asking if _I’m_ okay?”

“I…” Blake really doesn’t know how to respond to that, her ears falling flat for a moment and all the noise around her becomes nonexistent. Unimportant. They were in the middle of battle, in the midst of a horde of beings seeking a taste of their blood, wishing for their final breath, but none of that mattered. Just Yang. Only Yang.

(It was only ever Yang.)

“I just- _Damn it_ , Blake. I-I heard you scream earlier but I went to look and, and I didn’t see you, and then those stupid bird-people all swarmed together up high and then- and then Weiss found Gambol’s sheath and I-I, I didn’t know what to do, but then I saw you falling so, so I just ran and… _Fuck_ , _Blake_ ,” Yang’s voice shakes as much as she does before she’s grabbing at Blake again, pulling her forward as if Blake would disappear then and there if she didn’t hold her fast enough. Her voice breaks and it sounds so beautiful in its destruction. “Don’t _do that_ again!”

Blake can hardly comprehend it at all, unused to someone worrying about her so. It was nice, and it made her feel all warm inside.

She also feels guilty- guilty for making Yang go through that.

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs instinctively and is about to hold Yang, to comfort her, but her partner shakes her head before abruptly pulling away at an arm's-length, looking at her with frightened, teary eyes.

“Sorry! Sorry, you were just- Gods, you’re injured, a-are you okay?” Fingers graze against a torn part of her coat, there were multiple of those now, and Blake winces, only now noticing and feeling all the various nicks and cuts scattered around her body. Her aura had shielded her from the worst of it- surely it would have been enough to tear her apart- but that didn’t mean she was completely scot-free. But this was fine. It could’ve been so much worse.

She grimaces and hisses between her teeth when Yang reaches up to her ears with shaking fingers, and Blake only now realizes that her right cat ear has been nicked in two different places. Deep vees that bisected the skin and pulsed with a heartbeat of agony all their own. The left was spared, gratefully, and now that Blake has drawn attention to it, it _hurts_. Her ears had always been sensitive- to touch, to hearing, to everything- especially to pain.

The tips of Yang’s fingers come away with a bit of blood and she looks so horrified that Blake immediately grabs her hand, hiding the damage (but it has already been done). One would think Blake was bleeding out instead of slightly cut with that kind of expression. Before she could start to spiral, Blake squeezes their fingers together and leans forward slightly, making sure Yang was looking at _her_ and not at any of her cuts or nicks or blood.

“I’m _fine_ , Yang,” Blake stresses the words, slow and purposeful and reassuring, and her partner draws in a tattered breath, nerves frayed and she exhales just as shakily. “Just a few cuts and scrapes. I’m fine.”

“I’m sorry,” Yang curls their fingers even tighter and Blake could feel the blood- _her_ blood- on the tips of her partner’s fingers drawing against her palm. Regret hangs heavy in Yang’s voice; it's a miracle her words could even reach the air. “I should have been with you. I promised I would-”

And Blake finds it funny- how they both felt guilty for breaking their promise to each other. What a match they were; two traumatized women with scars on their bodies, hearts, and very souls, just trying to love each other. This is no place to laugh, so Blake just allows a momentary smile of amusement before darting forward, placing her lips over Yang’s to get her to stop talking- a sense of high shooting through her with the thought that she was able to kiss Yang freely now- before pulling away and bumping their foreheads together. Yang draws in a startled breath and her eyes go a little wide and it’s such a boost to Blake’s ego, being able to make her blush like that even in a place like this. It makes her feel lightheaded and energized and she feels just a little more hopeful. 

Hopeful for a future she would make for damn sure had a chance of coming true.

“You’re here now,” Blake murmurs and hopes that it’s enough. “That’s all that matters.”

Yang blinks at her before letting out a wilting breath, her entire body sagging a bit in relief and maybe all of the guilt and fear doesn’t leave her eyes, it never truly does, but it settles into something manageable. Something she can push aside for later. _After_.

They can talk more _after_.

Because right now, despite the world melting away to just Yang, Blake is all too aware of where they are and maybe it isn’t the safest place to be doing this. That becomes even more evident when she hears the sudden song of another of Weiss’s glyphs; it alarms her to attention and she jumps instinctively as noise becomes real once more. A _crash_ to her right, a solid thud of muscle meeting the immovable barrier of the shining glyph, and a muted bellow make her crouch over Yang with a knee-jerk reaction to defend her with nothing but nails and teeth if she had to.

A turn of her head to the side and nothing more than maybe ten or so feet away reveals the glimmering sigil of Weiss’s crest as a glyph protects both her and Yang- and just behind it was a very angry-looking, bipedal, bull-like Grimm. Horns curve up and over the considerably large glyph, made of solid obsidian and sharp at the tips, bent slightly inward and ready to skewer anybody that comes across its path. (Blake dutifully ignores the slight stain of crimson already on it.) It’s bulky front arms end with long claws that slash uselessly at the wall before it, bouncing off with nothing more than a scraping sound, like nails on a chalkboard, that sets her teeth on edge and a faint sparkle from the glyph in response. Muscular and armored with bleached bones stained with disturbing splashes of red on the chest and shoulders and abdomen, it’s hooved feet stamp the ground in frustration.

“If you two are quite done, we’re kind of in the middle of something!” 

Weiss’s voice sounds off from the left and Blake turns her gaze toward it, a wave of relief washing over unlike any other seeing the sheath of her weapon in her friend’s right hand. Myrtenaster’s revolvers click into place before Weiss is swinging it forward the way one does a wand, blue eyes bright and nervous but resolved as five smaller glyphs form around her form. They spin and flicker before white projectiles emit from the center of the rotating snowflakes like beams of light.

The missiles spin around themselves, twisting and advancing and shooting straight over Blake’s head. The glyph protecting them falls away, the bull still preparing itself to bash straight through, right as the missiles reach it. All five meet their target, the bull letting out another deep roar as it staggers back one, two steps that make the ground shake around her. The air chills with the frosty explosion as ice blooms all along the monster’s body like sharp-leaved roses, beautiful and deadly. Blake can hardly see the creature itself through all the shards, but it is still standing and if anything, the brilliant display of dust that never ceased to amaze her did nothing more but aggravate it a bit.

(Watching Weiss use dust in such creative and grand ways was like watching Ruby tinker with weapons, Blake could marvel just how easily they did it. It was virtually second-nature, like breathing, and it was wondrous.)

The minotaur lets out a growl from deep within its chest, the reverberations vibrating in her, rattling her bones, and it flexes its body, swinging its arm directly to itself and breaking the ice into a million pieces. Mist rises from its body, curling around pitch-black horns as the thing tilts its head back and lets out a battle cry. Blake grits her teeth and a call of her name from Weiss makes her move. Grabbing her weapon, Blake rises, twisting slightly in her friend’s direction as Weiss tosses Gambol’s sheath to her.

Blake catches it with her free hand, feeling as though a missing bone has returned to her body with the comfortable and familiar weight of it, and she spins back toward the minotaur. Energy snaps with her momentum, a small portion of her aura pooling into the cleaving blade of the sheath. Breath controlled as she moves off of Yang, Blake slashes her blade in the air, arcing wide. Her aura roars free, a shockwave of white-purple energy flying through the space between them and cutting deep into the minotaur.

 _That_ seems to damage it, the roar it lets out this time warped with agony as it stumbles back even more, recoiling away from them and bringing its arms up uselessly to defend another wave. Blake lets out a slight hiss between her teeth, spinning her blade in her hand and releasing an even breath. A fireball soars over her head from Weiss, blasting across the face of the thing, and Blake hears two more shotgun bursts before Yang is lunging straight to it. Sprinting the short distance, her partner kicks off of the minotaur’s bone-armored knee, the leverage bringing her higher, and she sends a solid hook to its jaw, hair burning at the same instant with a white-hot heat.

The world pulses with a tremor, gold sparking off where fist impacted jaw and the flares flutter in the air for a second before vanishing, the remaining frost from the leftover spiked roses of ice melting away in an instant, and Yang lands on her feet in front of the creature. Blake hears Weiss coming forth from behind her, the both of them enthralled with rising hope and adrenaline once they realize the bull’s lower jaw is hanging limply, useless and broken. It glares at them with infuriated red eyes, flicking down to the yellow-clad human that hurt it most, and it howls before raising one of its hooved feet.

Yang braces herself instead of moving, and though Blake knows it was what she had to do to power herself up, to keep herself going, the sight of her partner willingly taking a hit instead of dodging never became any easier to witness. Yang’s name clings to the roof of her mouth, thick like paste and blood, and Blake has to heavily swallow her panic down, the force of the kick landing solidly against Yang’s front, sending her skidding back. Two, deep grooves are left behind by the brawler’s firmly planted feet, the ground succumbing- even when she didn’t. She doesn’t fall and Blake can breathe a little easier when Yang seems to shrug it off.

Blake can already imagine the hoof-shaped bruise that would make a home on Yang’s body, and the image of it in her mind fuels her anger unlike any other and she’s running. Coming up directly behind Yang, she’s prepared to leap over her, to use her clones or use Yang’s shoulders as a platform to give her height, but another glyph forms on the ground in her path, and Blake immediately goes to it. Weiss never failed to help them out when they required it most, always having their backs even when they didn’t think they needed it.

The glyph propels her up and over her partner, and Blake comes down with a spin, blades slicing down the front of the beast, from head to torso and she lands in front of it. The minotaur hardly looks affected, and that irritates her to no end, but the armor of bones on its chest is beginning to chip so it's enough for her. They just needed to find a weak spot on such a resilient and hardy Grimm. 

Everything had a weak spot.

It reaches for her with sharp nails and impatience, prepared to grab and crush her in its hands, but a click from Gambol Shroud and Blake vanishes from her place. Another clone of fire is touched instead, exploding on impact and the force of it helps Blake to leap off its arm and to the protrusions on its back near the top of the head. The bones jutting all down its spine provide just enough of a foothold, reminding her- funnily enough- of a saddle, for her to balance on the back of its shoulders. She slides the thinner blade of Gambol into its protective, deadly case, holding the cleaver high over her head, between the long curving horns of the beast, and stabbing straight down into the top of its head. There is slight resistance that she had expected, but the bones near the top of its skull seem to be thinner- thin enough for her to force her blade down and into its head with a spine-chilling, satisfying _shnk_.

It lets out a deafening roar of agony, arms reaching up to try and grab at her and she hangs on when it shakes itself, trying to throw her off, clutching the grip of her weapon for dear life and digging it in deeper. She can’t quite get away from the nails, and they scrape at wherever they can reach- mostly her legs and she feels grateful for the resistances put into the design of her combat outfit- and she grits her teeth together and hangs on.

She’s just about shaken off when the minotaur stumbles back abruptly, almost thrown off its feet entirely, and Blake feels the wave of heat telling of Yang’s semblance and hears the loud shattering of bone. Chunks of the armor on its chest fall away entirely, unable to resist a powered-up strike from Yang, even a restrained one at that, and something shifts in the creature then, muscular shoulders tightening and eyes going wild and desperate. 

It tilts its head back slightly, Blake ducking down to avoid being sliced with the tips of the horns, and bellows, long and deep and angry, and Blake has just enough time to tighten her grip on Gambol- as well as grab one of the horns- before it lurches forward abruptly and starts to charge with no precedent. It rams right through Yang and Weiss, who had been directly in its path, and barrels over them. 

Blake can’t even shout over her shoulder for them, can’t even look to see if they were okay, because the thing has made a considerable distance already through the crowd of allies and friends. She calls for others to move, and though some do see the rampaging bull and get the hell out of dodge, there are still a few that are trampled. With horns or hooves or swinging arms and sharp claws, Blake feels the impact of each one of them from her perch. She digs Gambol Shroud ever deeper, twisting it and turning it in the hopes that it would be enough, and she even goes so far as to infuse more of her aura into the blade itself. Faint purple light spills from the wound where her blade is driven into darkness, but by some form of horrible miracle, the bull keeps going.

She’s just about to give up from her apparently fruitless effort- because that’s what it feels like and she doesn’t particularly enjoy this bumpy ride- when it stops with a sudden jerk. The momentum of it sends her over, arms lurching and threatening to pull straight from their sockets from where she holds a death grip on her weapon. She lands awkwardly near the minotaur’s head, cradled by the horns like it was a basket, and she tilts her head back in mild confusion. Glowing red eyes flicker once and die out and it lets out a last fading echo before it starts to dissipate. The horns go first and Blake falls to the ground on her back, letting out a quiet _oomph_ , and she brings her weapon close to herself once it is free from the head as that, too, vanishes.

Blake stands, quivering with adrenaline and the rush of speed, hair disheveled and clothes windswept, and lets out a groan of relief at the sight of the disappearing minotaur before her. The ground juts out into deadly skewers, colored red- both naturally and unnaturally so- and the faint glow of a glyph near the base of each spike is telling of her impromptu savior. She had never felt more grateful for earth dust than this moment, shifting and bending the ground to do Weiss’s bidding.

And it also meant that Weiss was nearby, and if she was okay, then so was Yang.

She feels so tired now, exhaustion hitting deep within her bones and it's nearing enough to make her drop her weapon entirely, but she shakes off the stupor. The night wasn’t over yet, by a long shot, there was no time to rest. Blake lifts her eyes, looking through the spaces of the stakes, and she relaxes for a moment, seeing a flash of yellow and white racing her way.

It’s relieving.

And distracting.

Blake had fought in hordes before, and she curses herself for not remembering one of the most important rules: always be aware of your surroundings. 

An entity collides into her side, tackling her with crushing force and her back roughly hits the ground before she can comprehend what’s happening. It leaves her winded and struggling to draw in a breath, even more, when a solid weight settles against her chest, pushing her down, and she has just enough wherewithal and awareness- primal instincts of battle and survival raging through her body, heart racing- to lean her head to the side when she hears something slicing through the air. 

She isn’t fast enough to avoid all of the damage, however. The skin on her left cheek, near the top of the cheekbone and just below her eye and down to the curve of her jaw, splits open with crippling pain and it burns- her blood feels too hot as it escapes her and she growls, grimacing away from what was most definitely a claw of some kind. When she looks up, all she can see over her is a mass of blackness, a white-skulled face, and the razor-sharp teeth of the cat-like Grimm she had seen once before. Glowing eyes leave a faint trail as the jaguar snarls down at her, mouth opening slightly and dripping with black ooze from its gums and smoky black tongue. It licks its maw as if it has just found its next meal. 

It lunges.

Blake is half-aware that the thing intends to bite down on her head and tear it right off of her shoulders. 

_As if_ she’d go down that easily and without a fight.

How insulting.

She’s just about to disappear from beneath it, to re-emerge behind it and decapitate it, fueled by irritation that came with feeling her own blood flowing from an open wound- when the sound of thunderous steps reach her ears. For half a second, Blake thinks another minotaur is charging somewhere, maybe even in her direction, because that’s what it sounds like; a full-on sprint that had no intention of stopping or slowing. Just a being with one purpose- to barrel straight into whatever was in its way and never stop.

The crunch of bones makes her grimace more than the volume of the sharp wail the jaguar makes as it’s sent flying off of her, one side of its ribs caved in from a vengeful fist and Yang shines- _burns_ \- so brightly it hurts to glance up toward her. She stands over Blake for a moment, protective and threatening, but her red eyes blaze with something dangerous and feral as they remain on the agonized beast. Blake hardly glances over at it, hearing it let out chirps and trills of a wounded animal, and she almost feels sorry for it as Yang glances down at her, _sees_ the blood on her cheek, and immediately steps over her and walks to the jaguar.

Her steps are slow and labored, purposeful, and it looks like she’s refraining herself from sprinting straight to it. Blake moves onto her side, lifting herself slightly up on her elbow, but her eyes remain glued to the scene in front of her. The jaguar stumbles where it’s crouched, ribs caved in, and it would probably die soon if left alone anyway. Yang wasn’t going to leave it alone though, and as she approaches, the Grimm makes a final effort to attack her, swiping with one of its legs and snarling at the approaching threat.

Yang bats away its paw without even looking, and Blake could do nothing but watch as her partner reaches forward, grabbing the top and bottom jaw of the Grimm and ignoring the way the teeth dig into her fingers. She braces herself and so does Blake, already knowing what was about to happen before it could happen. The jaguar tries to tear itself away from her grip, but Yang doesn’t let it, forcing its mouth open, muscles flexing and stiff and unforgiving. Once the jaw has reached its limit, Yang keeps pulling regardless with a single-minded focus. 

The jaguar hisses and growls and still tries to swipe at her, to bite at her, but it's weakened and Yang is running on boosted strength and vengeance. It’s rather brutal to watch, and even though Blake expects it, hearing the crack of bone as the top half of its skull is torn off still makes her grimace. 

Yang lets the bottom half fall away without a care, glancing at the remaining skull piece in her metal hand with a frown before tossing it, too, onto the ground and the jaguar starts to vanish. Her partner still stands over it, fists clenched and muscles tensed and shoulders slightly hunched. Smoke coils off of her body, steam leaving her mouth and nose as she exhales raggedly, hair still burning and it more or less looks like her entire body is shining with a golden light. It reminds Blake of a dragon achieving victory, standing over the dead body of its quarry, taunting it to get back up so she could kill it again for harming someone she cared about with her presence alone.

The sight of it sends a spark of _something_ straight through Blake, and she doesn’t know whether it’s fear or exhilaration or another thing entirely. She lets out a shuddering breath as she stands up slowly, body aching and her hand absentmindedly comes to wipe at the blood on her cheek that was still flowing. (It’s starting to trail down her neck uncomfortably.) Her eyes move over Yang, cautiously, nervously, and for some reason unbeknownst to her, she zeroes in on Yang’s hand- her flesh one- and her ears perk noticing its quiver. 

Yang stands from her hunch, shoulders rolling back and head tilting to the sky, the light and fire fading gradually as well as she releases a rolling sigh. Steam trickles from her mouth and into the open air like a smoke signal, and Blake is a little unsure now if this fire will burn her if she comes closer. She wasn’t _terrified_ of what she had just witnessed, more so a little unsettled. 

Her thoughts derived from her trauma that was Adam try to stab fear into her heart like so many times before, upon seeing anything that had even a sliver of resemblance to him, but Blake catches the blade before it could drive ever deeper. No, she was not scared of Yang. 

Yang was not Adam, and though one could compare the two and point out similarities, there were differences even in their likeness.

They were both warm; but Adam’s warmth was like a wildfire- uncontrollable rage that just kept going and going without ever a true purpose except just to burn. And he _burned_ … He burned _her_ on many occasions, every day it seemed. But Yang… Yang is warm like Blake is sitting by the fireplace during their peaceful times in Atlas, sipping hot cocoa and relaxing. 

They were both bright, demanding of her attention and if she’s honest, it hurts to look at Yang sometimes. It hurt to look at Adam, too; but with him, he forced her not to turn away, to keep looking even when she didn’t want to ( _especially_ when she didn’t want to). With Yang, Blake can not even fathom the thought of looking away, even for a moment.

He was rage and hate and pain; Yang is devotion and safety and warmth… healing and, and home and…

 _Love_.

She was protective, and yes, her protectiveness went a little overboard sometimes, as it did now, but Blake never felt in danger when around her. Not even now.

Right now, there were more dangerous things than Yang- who was looking at her with a hint of regret and unsaid sorries already.

 _There are more dangerous things_ … just like the rush of light suddenly heading in Yang’s direction, just at the cusp of Blake’s peripheral vision. Endless black and dancing like a rush of flames with a color fire should never be. Yang doesn’t seem to have noticed it, lost in her own little world of remorse and crippling exhaustion, eyes glazed over for a moment as she sways in place. She does not doubt that if this fire connected, it was going to _hurt_ Yang- even more than any other damage she received tonight. _It might even kill her._

Blake’s voice catches in her throat before she’s sprinting directly to Yang. The incoming fire is just a second slower than her and for a hysterical moment, she wonders if all of her years spent on the run finally made her fast enough to outmatch impending doom. 

The spark of nervousness from Yang’s brutal attack on the jaguar is shoved aside as the blaze of fear she feels for Yang’s safety consumes her (and she’s burning, burning, burning) and she pushes herself faster. At that moment, nothing else mattered; not the blood dripping down her cheek or the various cuts and scrapes littering her body, not the possibility of failure and the chance that they wouldn’t even reach the castle, not the potential fight with whoever was waiting for them with Ruby.

Nothing else mattered but getting Yang to safety and out of the way of the fire.

Blake reaches her right as the flames do, arms wrapping around Yang as if the only purpose she had for coming here was to hug her. She feels the heat of the fire coming closer, dangerously so, _milliseconds_ from colliding, and she squeezes her eyes shut. She doesn’t pray- none of her prayers had been answered recently- and instead, Blake pushes her aura out to encompass them both. 

She had done this only once before, as an act of desperation, and for half a heartbeat, she’s back at Beacon. The fire and heat she feels are from the dining hall burning down and Adam’s intense gaze, the white-hot flash of agony as he stabs her with Wilt, the blaze of panic upon seeing Yang running to her, Yang leaping, Yang falling. She moves, even though moving is nothing short of torture, to defend Yang with only her glare and determination. 

All she had wanted then was to get Yang out of there.

All she wants now is to get Yang out of here.

The wave of fire touches her back for a second, only a second of intense torture melting her before she feels herself being pulled apart and stitched together in that familiar feeling of her shadows. Blake holds onto her partner with everything that she is, and Yang is there. She’s there, moving with her, there for Blake to pull apart and put back together, their souls like molecules bending and twisting and twining around each other for safety and security and peace. Yang moves with her as if the possibility of going in a different direction never existed before, and for a moment, they’re non-corporeal and Blake thinks that they have died and are now ghosts. 

But they remain touching, together, never to part, and if this is where they died, _how_ they died, Blake is fine with it because she has Yang with her.

She solidifies, however, just as she always does with her semblance. Sensation greets her first, slowly, lungs and heart freezing for a blink before stuttering to attention- as if they were students waking up late for a test. Blake feels solid ground at her back, but there is a wave of dizziness that comes with her that is mostly unfamiliar. _Mostly_ \- because Blake lethargically becomes aware that they are on the other side of the spikes that had killed the minotaur, a considerable distance away from where they had vanished from the fire and Blake knows that traveling long stretches of land in one shadow gives her vertigo.

Add the distance on top of the fact that she never really practiced as much as she should have with shadowing with another person. She’s on her back on the ground, but she still feels the earth sway so she keeps her eyes shut and takes in a deep breath that makes her lungs ache as if this is their first time drawing in air. Noise catches up to her next, and she can hear shouting from somewhere nearby and the ringing of gunshots at whatever had sliced a wave of black fire at them.

A warm and steady weight settles on top of her and her next inhale comes with the smell of the hearth and citrus and she wants to sob in relief. Her hands are still clutching onto something, with so much pressure she can’t even feel her fingers by this point, but she doesn’t let go. Not until the person above her shifts a bit, perhaps not wanting to squish her, and Blake wants to pull them closer because she quite likes the weight on top of her like this.

Blake feels a pair of eyes on her, searching her face, and she has to force her eyes open. Her sight is blurred and she blinks it away, trying not to panic when it takes a lot longer than it feels like it should have, but gradually, inevitably, Yang is there in all her glory and _fuck_ is she a vision. It is neither the time nor the place, but Blake just takes her time appreciating Yang for all that she is worth.

Purple eyes are a little wide with surprise as they gaze down at her, understanding bleeding into them before her expression dissolves into something achingly soft. Yang’s line of sight bounces from one part of her face to the next, attention shifting before a shine of regret appears right near the center of a sea of amethyst. Yang shifts her weight a little, keeping herself propped up with one arm, and Blake grits her teeth as a surge of pain blossoms across her cheek as Yang runs a gentle thumb by the cut there. 

Right. She had almost forgotten about that, and now that it was brought back to her attention, she has to bite back a whimper.

“Heal yourself,” Yang speaks in the breath of whisper, just loud enough for Blake to hear over the nearby shouts and roars and bullets. Her thumb remains near the curve of Blake’s jaw, eyes lidded with shame and guilt for letting Blake get cut. “It’ll scar if you don’t.”

Blake has a tough time finding her voice- the dizziness is wearing off, but it had always taken longer for everything to come back to tiptop condition when shadowing long distances (add to the fact that Yang looks breathtakingly beautiful, it's a little unfair)- but she swallows in the hopes to wet her dry throat, speaking anyway when that doesn’t really succeed and ignoring the way her words come in a croak.

“We’re not done,” Blake hears the hint of a whimper in there somewhere, “We still have a long way to go and I’ve already used a lot of my aura. I can’t waste it on a cut.” She flexes her fingers a bit from where they dig into Yang’s back, bringing the blood flow back to them before she lets one hand drop to hover over Yang’s where it rests by the wound. Their eyes meet as she says, “Let it scar. It’s fine.”

Scars were the least of her concern. Her face aches, cut stretching and pulling as she talks, but she had used enough aura only for it to stem most of the bleeding. It should stop soon anyway. There was no need to close it all the way if it wasn’t a mortal wound.

“Blake…” Yang’s voice goes a little tight, and Blake can already hear the countless apologies just waiting to spring to the open air. And Blake knows they had to talk about it, it was important to Yang and it was important to her, but it was not the time. The shouts are growing louder and more desperate and their allies needed their help.

“After,” Blake cuts her off gently before her partner can go on that tirade, moving her other hand to cup the side of Yang’s face and feeling a sliver of satisfaction worm its way into her chest when Yang leans into her touch. It’s intoxicating, this freedom to touch Yang the way she has always wanted to, to kiss her and hold her and never let her go. Purple eyes vanish behind closed lids and her face pinches a little as if hurt and Blake wants to apologize for that too. “We can talk after, Yang.”

There’s a lingering, horrible thought of “ _What if there isn’t an after?”_ floating in her mind, but she silences that voice as soon as she can. (She still hears it, like the echo of a ghost in her ears, and she tries not to shiver.)

“Okay,” Yang says eventually, exhaling sharply against the heel of her palm before her eyes open again. She relents with a small nod before she’s suddenly leaning down, and Blake readies herself for a kiss and is only slightly disappointed when Yang’s lips don’t meet hers. Instead, they brush against her cheek, just beside the laceration, and Blake thinks that was almost as adorable as an actual kiss would have been. Yang pulls away and Blake smiles in appreciation. 

Her partner begins to move off of her, sitting back on her heels before finding her footing and reaching a hand to Blake as she does. Blake accepts it, of course, and they both pull each other to their feet, hands remaining linked as they stand across from each other. They take a moment to look around, tearing their eyes away from each other reluctantly, and survey the land.

There is a new Grimm that people are struggling to fend off- one holding a blade formed from those same black flames from before, with the wings of a demon on its back more for show and intimidation rather than flight. It is a rather frightening looking Grimm, reminding Blake of a gargoyle or a demon, mouth glowing with heat every time it opened and snapped at the people around it. It was towering above them all, even taller than the minotaur they had fought and crouched on its toes as if waiting for the right moment to pounce on someone. A crown of horns sits on its head, a devil-king defending his kingdom. It steadies itself with one large hand on the ground, a club-tipped tail at the end whipping back and forth behind it to dispel people from jumping onto its spiked back, driving the sword downward and burning the land and anyone who got in its way.

Blake feels immediate resentment towards the thing that had tried killing her partner moments ago. Yang follows her gaze and her eyes narrow as well, the two glancing back toward each other with equal nods. That one. That was their next target.

“Together?” Yang asks, vulnerability leaking into her features, eyes darting to their joined hands for a moment and Blake feels her grip go a little lax. Still there, but loose, giving Blake the option to let go if she wanted to.

Blake doesn’t understand how Yang doesn’t know by now- she will _never_ let go.

She squeezes Yang’s hand, palms pressing together and heartbeats humming in rhythm, and Blake gives a reassuring smile that makes her cut smart a bit, but it’s worth it.

“There’s no other way.”

Yang inhales sharply before she’s smiling again, eyes bright with relief and energy, and they give one final nod to each other before they turn, hand in hand, Blake drawing Gambol Shroud with her free hand.

They charge, and out of the corner of her eye, Blake can see a flash of white as Weiss fends off what looks like large foxes, keeping them at bay from assaulting the people fending off the gargoyle demon. She makes a mental note to assist her, a little relieved seeing Jaune and Ren and Nora already running to aid the ex-heiress.

Inevitably, Blake has to let go of Yang’s hand, but she’s not scared. Yang is right by her side, right where she belongs.

There were a lot of things waiting for them in the after.

Their war continues now, however.

So Blake was going to fight with everything she had to reach _after_.

**_…_ **

_“You’re going to get dirty, you know.” Weiss sighs with a shake of her head, legs curled beneath her on the picnic blanket._

_“It’s just a little dirt, Weiss!” Ruby chuckles from where she lays in the grass in front of her, body splayed out spread-eagle and it very much looks like she’s tempted to make snow-angels. She restrains herself, much to Weiss’s surprise, and tilts her head back to look at Weiss upside-down. “It’s not gonna hurt me.”_

_“Say that later when you’re the one washing,” Weiss can’t help but snicker, “I believe it’s your turn, is it not?”_

_Ruby’s face blanches a little before she’s groaning, “Aww man. I thought it was Yang’s turn.”_

_“We have a schedule Ruby, you’re the one who made it! How could you forget?” The ridiculousness makes her laugh a little, and Weiss does not spare the time to question how she got here. On a grassy hill on Beacon’s campus with the rest of her team, relaxing the day away beneath the sun instead of training and studying like she was so keen on doing._

_“I know, I know,” Ruby grumbles before she goes quiet, hands behind her head before she settles deeper into the grass regardless. A lolling sigh escapes her and Weiss can only shake her head with a smile threatening to grow on her lips._

_While she could get on Ruby’s case about being on top of their studies and whatnot, Weiss thinks she can let this one day slide. Maybe a part of her really, really wanted just one day to relax._

_Or maybe Ruby’s laziness was beginning to rub off on her. Ah well._

_It’s a beautiful day, and though normally Weiss hated being in the sun for hours on end, she was very quick to burn, she can’t help but relax beneath its rays as well. The wind is blowing gently, playfully, and provides just enough of a chill to counteract the heat._

_A squeal from somewhere ahead of her and her partner has her eyes turning, a hum escaping her lips as Blake and Yang have apparently begun a game of tag. It’s a little unfair, considering they’re both huntresses, and Blake is nimble and quick but Yang is light on her feet and stubborn. They circle around each other for a moment before Yang lunges, right hand carding through the air as Blake reels back, and they begin a new chase with each trying to juke the other out._

_Weiss is more than a little surprised that Ruby wasn’t running out there with them, and instead, had opted to join Weiss on the picnic blanket. (Well,_ by _the picnic blanket, but still.) It makes her chest feel warm and she can’t quite hide her smile as she looks down at her partner again, silver eyes closed as she dozes in the rays of the sun. She appears so relaxed Weiss almost wants to join her in her little catnap, but she resists and settles for watching over them all instead._

_Her scroll is turned off and somewhere inside the pockets of the haversack that was overflowing with snacks that are mostly unhealthy and not a usual sight in a picnic. She feels the initial itch to want to get it out, to look through her messages and read through whatever email or lecture or documents her father had sent her this time._

_The ghost of her duties hovers over her shoulder, but every time she looks down at a resting Ruby or up to where Blake was jumping over Yang in an impressive display of acrobatics, Weiss can all but imagine that it wasn’t there at all._

_It’s strange. Before coming to Beacon, before meeting Team RWBY, before meeting_ Ruby _, Weiss had never had friends before. Never ones she truly cared about or that she trusted completely because those ‘friends’ she did have were only ever with her for her last name. It had been difficult, growing adjusted to these people. Changing her way of viewing the world and accepting that her way of thinking had been wrong and just downright mean (Ruby’s words, not hers)._

_She never had friends before, but she has an inkling of an idea that the care she had for these people was much more than what was ‘normal’ for simple friendship. Blake and Yang and Team JNPR (yes, even Jaune, surprisingly) and Ruby were more than friends to her._

_She thinks this is what having a real family feels like. And though she no doubt knows that she has love for Winter, it’s different from them._

_(And Ruby... The care she has for Ruby is different, too, but Weiss can’t quite place what makes it different.)_

_Her eyes find Ruby and she realizes with a start that she’s been staring at her too, silver eyes having opened who knows when and just looking at her quietly. She never thought she would see the day where Ruby could be so quiet, peaceful, but she finds that even though she likes this silence, she much prefers when Ruby is babbling to her about nonsense._

_Ruby blinks at her, silver eyes sparkling with the light of the sun, and Weiss doesn’t know why her next breath stutters when her partner suddenly breaks into a grin. Those bright smiles that never cease to warm her chest and make her feel infinitely lighter just looking at it- and when Ruby smiles_ because _of her,_ for _her, Weiss feels a sense of victory unlike any other. Weiss smiles back. She doesn’t entirely know what conversation they just had with their eyes alone, but whatever it was, it had reached its peaceful conclusion and she feels lighter, happier already._

_These people were strange. Ruby was strange._

_She wants to find out more about them, about her._

_“I’m glad you’re here, Weiss,” Ruby speaks in a particularly soft voice that sets her nerves on fire for some reason, but Weiss doesn’t question it before she’s responding with;_

_“I’m glad you’re here too, Ruby.”_

_And truer words have never left her mouth before. It’s alarming, really. There are so many things that she suddenly wants to say to work through the confusion and reach a solution, but she feels like those words are enough. Ruby makes them feel like enough, when her eyes crinkle a bit with the stretch of her smile, beaming as though Weiss has just given her exactly what she asked for and she feels a warmth unlike any other, cheeks burning. She blames the sun._

_Ruby extends one hand up toward her, reaching and stretching but she refuses to make her life easier and just scoot up, so Weiss takes pity on her and does it for her, shifting closer to the edge of the picnic blanket and to the grass until she can feel just the barest hint of prickly edges against her thigh. The tips of Ruby’s fingers brush her knee and Weiss doesn’t really understand why it makes her shiver, goosebumps prickling just beneath the surface of her skin, and she reaches out to grab Ruby’s hand because it’s bordering on too much for her to handle._

_Their fingers hook lazily together, just at the first and second knuckles, and there’s no immediacy to reach even more to lace them together. This simple touch of fingertips feels more intimate than a hug and Weiss wonders if Ruby is having as hard a time as breathing as she suddenly is. Light sparks of their auras flutter at the pads of fingers, both callused to various degrees with Ruby’s much more worn than hers._

_Light blue reaches to red in greeting, familiarity, home, and red returns the gesture excitedly, willingly as if it only exists to do this. It feels like a part of her heals with that touch alone and Weiss has to swallow back the sudden surge of emotions in her throat. Ruby’s eyes don’t leave hers, despite how silly she looks with her head tilted back like that, and Weiss wonders what she sees in her._

_Looking behind them, it’s wondrous to see just how far they have come. Sure, they still had their disagreeing moments, but they_ worked _. Weiss tried her best to not be as prickly and stiff and Ruby, in turn, took her studying and training more seriously. That’s not to say Weiss was trying to_ change _her completely, and neither was Ruby._

_They just saw so much potential in each other, in parts that neither of them got to see in themselves, and they nurtured that part, coaxing it to life. Weiss, with making time to help Ruby when the younger girl was stuck on questions for an upcoming test and helping her learn rather than just giving her the answers (and rewarding her when applicable). Ruby, with never bombarding Weiss with too much of her energy and being patient with her, going at Weiss’s pace instead of blazing ahead and leaving her behind._

_Weiss thinks she doesn’t deserve someone like Ruby._

_No. She_ knows _she doesn’t deserve Ruby, and it makes the warmth blooming in her chest quiver and tighten into something painful, a fist clenching around her heart in a vice grip. Her father’s ghost and grating words hiss in her ears and her jaw clenches, face pinching in discomfort for a moment long enough for Ruby to notice (she was staring at her face after all). Her partner’s brow furrows for a moment, and she withdraws her hand to roll onto her side, pushing herself up quickly and loose grass clings to her cloak and hair like burrs._

_Weiss doesn’t deserve her. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t want her._

_She wants her, and maybe she doesn’t deserve Ruby now, but she vows to_ become _someone who did._

_“Weiss?” Ruby asks, cautious and curious as ever, but Weiss just shakes her head, dispelling the ghost and the harsh words from her head and shifting to her knees, moving forward so she was kneeling on the grass in front of Ruby._

_“I told you you’d get dirty,” Weiss murmurs instead of addressing her concern, reaching over with lithe fingers and picking at the specks of green and brown that ruin the red she has grown so fond of. Ruby just laughs, allowing herself to be preened and picked clean by her partner’s hand and bowing her head to her for better access._

_Weiss takes her time, probably more than was appropriately acceptable, running her fingers through Ruby’s hair. Just to get the grass out, she tells herself, but that thought is quickly derailed by how soft her hair is. It parts with her fingers like snow and rivers of gentle black bleeding into red at the tips. She realizes with a start that she feels a flicker of satisfaction coursing through her, not knowing until now just how much she had wanted to run her fingers through Ruby’s hair._

_Her hands came to rest at the nape of Ruby’s neck, fingers splayed so some remained in her hair and others rested against warm skin beneath the line of the cloak’s hood. Ruby is looking at her now, much closer than before, and smiling contentedly all the same. Sterling silver darkens to pewter the closer to the pupil it goes, shining and bright and alive and joyful and everything they make Weiss feel._

_She doesn’t know what Ruby is to her. The rest of these people at Beacon are family, they settle themselves into that box and pull her in snugly along with them. Ruby’s there too, but Ruby… Ruby is different. Maybe it’s just because Ruby is her partner, her first friend._

_The first person she could rely on._

_Whatever the case, Weiss settles for calling Ruby_ hers _and that has to be enough to satisfy her. (It does, primitively so, and it pleases something deep within her soul and puts it at ease.)_

_Weiss withdraws her fingers slowly, taking her time to run across the side of Ruby’s neck, feeling the flutter and the strength of her pulse, before pulling away only when she absolutely needed to. (It’s surprising just how difficult it is to do so, to move her hand away from Ruby. It’s as though they have a mind of their own, emotions of their own, and they mourn the loss of contact.)_

_Ruby shivers as she does, and though half of that is because of something that neither of them understands yet, desire for another person a new concept for both of them, the other half is because it tickles her. Her partner stifles a laugh, snickering and giggling to herself, and the corners of Weiss’s lips hitch upward._

_“That tickles,” Ruby says what she already knows because she is a creature who strives on conversation and all she wants to do is talk to Weiss. Even if Weiss doesn't respond verbally._

_The light and warmth in her chest from being this close to Ruby makes her feel safe, safe and silly and she fans that tiny flame. Indulging herself, she reaches out wordlessly and jabs a finger into Ruby’s side, where she had seen Yang mercilessly tickle her there countless times before. Her partner’s reaction is immediate, jumping and jerking her body away and bringing her hands up defensively, a squeal escaping her lips. Her smile blossoms like the roses she was named for, infinitely brighter and a thousand times prettier._

_At the challenge that glistens in silver eyes, Weiss feels reckless and playful and tries to reach for her again, amusement dancing in a blue gaze as Ruby tries her best to parry her hand away, snatching at her wrists and holding her there for a moment. Their eyes meet yet again and the fire of joy sparks between both of them, playful and burning, and Weiss has never felt warmer._

_“This. Means. War!” Ruby lets out a mock-battle cry before she suddenly lunges forward, all but tackling Weiss, and the heiress can do nothing more but let it happen. She’s on her back for a moment, halfway on the picnic blanket and half on the grass and dirt and some part of her, sophisticated and stuck-up, wants to recoil from it and scream about getting dirty. But the larger part of her, giddy and carefree and_ wanting _, just accepts it before laughter suddenly rips free from her chest as Ruby begins to attack her belly and ribs with wriggling fingers._

_She tries her best to counter, dragging fingertips against a part of Ruby’s neck that makes her absolutely spasm with the ticklish sensation, but the fight she puts up is pitiful at best and she’s breathless within moments. If Weiss could look at herself now, relaxing the day away and having tickle wars, she’d honestly see a stranger. It makes her happy._

_“Yield, I yield!” Weiss manages to say through her breathless laughter, hands at the inside of Ruby’s elbows and trying to pry her away, cheeks aching and stomach hurting. It’s a good kind of pain. Ruby sits back against her legs, above her and triumphant, and raises her hands in the air._

_“I win!” Ruby shouts, exuberant as ever, before throwing herself to Weiss’s side on the ground and grinning at her. She’s just as breathless as Weiss because even though she hardly was able to tickle her, Ruby was laughing along with her all the same._

_Weiss knows her face must be an embarrassing shade of red and pink to various degrees, but it doesn’t bother her as much as she thought it would, one hand resting over her eyes for a handful of seconds as the giggles subside and she turns her head to the side to look at her partner. Ruby, who is already looking back at her as usual. The cloaked girl curls on her side facing her, one hand extending the short distance put between them, the tips of her pinky brushing against the curve of Weiss’s shoulder and she’s smiling too._

_When the laughter leaves both of them lighter and tired and worn-out, they don’t look away from each other. They have quickly learned to communicate with wordless, tiny gestures and looks and glances and Weiss is both terrified and enthralled with the idea of someone_ knowing _her enough to understand her voiceless emotions. How she doesn’t have to say if she’s uncomfortable or happy or sad or mad for Ruby to understand that. How a simple brush of an arm is an indicator to follow, a hug a reassurance._

_Ruby’s eyes speak what Ruby doesn’t voice out loud. She’s happy because Weiss is happy and Weiss is happy because she can make Ruby happy. It’s a cycle that runs on and on and on and Weiss wishes it will never stop. (Realistically, she knows it will. Because Weiss was Weiss and Ruby was Ruby and though the two had begun to meld together into something beautiful and grand, they were different people and their differences were bound to crash into one another. Maybe not as aggressively or volatile as before, but still- a clash was a clash.)_

_She stares into Ruby’s eyes and she sees the word that echoes in her own mind when looking at her partner._

Mine _, they scream and Weiss slowly inhales as the word bounces in her head._

_Ruby was hers. And Weiss was Ruby’s._

_Perhaps she didn’t deserve this, deserve her, but Weiss was going to selfishly hold onto Ruby for as long as she could._

_As with most moments nowadays, living with four people in one room hardly offered the privacy she was used to, it’s ruined when instead of looking at Ruby’s shining silver eyes, Weiss gets a face-full of familiar blonde hair as Yang more or less throws herself over top of the both of them, shouting “Dogpile!” while doing so. Weiss receives an elbow to her side, and it’s a bit unpleasant, but she suspects Ruby gets so much worse._

_Instead of yelling indignantly, Weiss laughs, and somewhere beside her, she hears Blake laughing too- most likely dragged into the dogpile as well- and Ruby and Yang wrestle for all of two seconds before Yang’s superior strength conquers. She can just barely see Ruby beneath Yang, struggling against her but putting on a half-hearted fight, smile brilliant like glistening diamonds, and Yang chortles triumphantly._

_Blake on her other side squishes the four of them together in an awkward pile of limbs, but Weiss has never felt safer. Has never felt this whole before. (These people complete her.) Golden eyes glisten with amusement and exasperation in equal parts, and as Weiss meets them, understanding and fondness are shared between the two._

_“I tried to talk her out of it,” Blake smiles sheepishly, a hint of mischief in it, and the way she says it tells Weiss that she didn’t really try all too hard. Weiss just shrugs- as best as she can considering she’s on the ground- and doesn’t put up much more of a fight._

_“I should’ve suspected as much,” Weiss chuckles softly, earning an indignant huff from Yang that’s cut off when Ruby uses her moment of distraction to turn the tables, jamming an elbow into her sister’s stomach that would’ve been painful on anyone else but Yang. Their wrestling match begins anew, more squirming than anything, and Blake and Weiss can only watch it happen with fond eyes._

_These are their partners._

_This is her family._

_These people are hers: Blake and Yang and... and Ruby._

_They are hers._

_And no force on earth was going to separate them from each other. Weiss was going to protect them with everything that she was and with all the power she strived to gain. No one was going to hurt them._

_And she was going to destroy all who dared try to harm them, to tear them from her._

_She wasn’t going to lose them without a fight._

**_…_ **

Myrtenaster finds its mark at the center of the fox’s head, piercing through without much resistance, just like the others, and though it vanishes as a dead Grimm should, it doesn’t seem right to Weiss.

Nerves frayed and rising, she somehow keeps herself steady, level-headed, enough to know that though the Grimm vanishes, it doesn’t die. It disappears, reminiscent of Blake’s clones, and a small, black and flickering will-o’-wisp appears in its place instead. The little ball of flame hovers in the air for a second before beginning to move and Weiss follows, knowing it’s not over yet.

She ducks out of the way of lunging wolves and hyenas and the occasional jaguar, protective glyphs forming a barrier around her when she knows she won’t be able to dodge in time, but she keeps running, following the orb of ominous flame straight to its source. She skids to a stop, blood racing and lungs burning from the too-thin air, but her eyes narrow in determination.

Another fox is there, larger than any of the ones she had fended off, with long legs and nine curling tails fluttering behind it. It sits with an air of casualness amidst all the chaos, so out of place, and its lips pull in a way that reminds her of a clown’s smile, eerie and large and always there. When it spots her, it stands, moving with a fluidity depicting its agile nature, and Weiss swallows and prepares herself, brandishing her rapier in front of her.

For half a second before it charges or she charges, she hasn’t decided yet if she wants to make the first move, Weiss half expects for there to be a flurry of rose petals making that decision for her. Ruby was always rushing head-long into battles anyway, always making that first step for her and trusting that she’d follow. Weiss always trusted her, of course. She trusts her with everything that she is, not just her life.

But Ruby isn’t here, at her side in this swarm of Grimm, and it stings.

Without her partner beside her in this fight, Weiss feels as though a part of her is gone. She will never understand how some people prefer to fight solo, leaving their partners and their teams entirely. (She knows for some, like herself and like Jaune and a few others, it was never their choice to begin with.)

The entire fight, Weiss didn’t know where to go, who to stay with, when to attack. It made her hesitant, and hesitating in the middle of battle was a gateway to death. She knows that, she _knows_ that, yet still… Still…

It aggravates and impresses her at the same time: the fact that she _still_ hasn’t gotten used to not having Ruby by her side in a fight. 

It was dangerous.

The fox, apparently having had enough of sitting around and waiting for her to make the first move, lets out a bark, so warped it's entirely unnatural, before lunging for her. Its nine tails streak behind it like banners for the enemy, designed with veins of red and tipped with the same white as the bones across its face. Weiss steadies herself, shaking away her thoughts and the heartache that was always going to linger until Ruby was safely in her arms, before twirling out of the way, dress billowing as if doing a spin for a waltz, and her blade sings as it slices through the air.

The fox is as agile as she suspected, twisting in such a way to lessen the cut that rips open as Myrtenaster’s blade slices across the side of its neck. It angles its body, head turning just enough to snap at her, and Weiss has to jump back to avoid the fangs, each of them sharp to the tip and ready to rip into her neck. It keeps coming, snapping at her incessantly, making her hop back each time, eyes darting this way and that to find an opening.

The tails wind and twirl and shift in the air distractingly, oftentimes drifting over its body in such a way as if to defend itself. The fox balances on three legs, reaching out for her with a limb that looks strangely similar to a human’s more so an actual fox, five bony fingers reaching for her. Weiss thrusts her rapier forward, the hand curling around it, and fire erupts from Myrtenaster in a chain of explosions all along the blade. The fox squeals then, yipping as the flames wreathe around it for a moment, crawling up its arm, directed by her free hand and the faint connection she has to the dust, but it vanishes quickly.

It backs away a step, two, and it’s Weiss’s turn to charge. Revolver clicking into place, her eyes dart down for a moment, to the unnatural feet and hands of the creature, and a flick of her fingers summons four glyphs beneath it. Aura thrumming through the air, the ground, through her weapon and the dust cartridges within it, ice begins to bloom along the fox’s feet, crawling up its legs in a matter of seconds and trapping it in place. It growls in frustration, apparently trying to break away from it, looking down at its frosty chains in confusion.

Weiss runs then. Moving forward, she jumps over the top of the creature, propelling herself like she had done Blake and Yang and a few others throughout the night, and flies over its head. Mid-air, Weiss aims the tip of her weapon right at the exposed back of the creature, a condensed ball of chilled light forming there before releasing on her command, the force sending her over the whipping tails and to the ground behind the fox. Ice explodes all along the fox’s back, a cry releasing from its mouth, and a breath escapes her then.

She chances a cursory glance down to the revolver, taking a mental note of which cartridges to switch out when she has a spare moment to do so. A spare moment that probably wouldn’t come anytime soon, and in that brief second with the fox mostly trapped by ice, Weiss feels the wraith of exhaustion and self-doubt clutch at the back of her neck. 

One after another, the Grimm just kept coming and coming and coming and she honestly can’t remember a second that she had to just breathe.

She has lost track of Blake and Yang multiple times, and that was fine. It’s fine, they could take care of each other, they didn’t need her. No one needed her.

_Useless._

_Weak._

_Not good enough._

It was why she couldn’t save Ruby in the first place. Why they were all doomed to be a part of this battle, forced to be in this hell. If she had saved Ruby the night Atlas fell, if she had pulled her from Salem’s grasp and away from the shadows, if she had been a _partner_ like she should have been, then none of this would have happened.

It was all her fault, all her fault because she was a failure and that’s what she was always going to be.

The sound of ice shattering forces her back to attention, lungs burning in a way that makes her realize she has stopped breathing altogether, and Weiss’s eyes dart upward. The fox smashes free from its restraints, turning with furious eyes and a drooling mouth, tails lashing through the air as it looks to her before all nine of them suddenly stopped with their wild movement. Sparks appear in the fox’s eyes, a flash of _something_ that Weiss thinks she was imagining.

But then, its smile turns into a snarl, lips pulling back and mouth partially opening and, curiously enough, Weiss thinks she sees a flash of black lightning jumping around its teeth. The tails rise in the air simultaneously, the skull of the creature glistening with a faint light before lightning courses through its body then, running along the top of the creature from the tips of the tails. It curls its neck back, and as Weiss watches the tails winding slowly, the lightning buzzing and zapping louder and louder and bending wildly within its mouth, she has the faint thought of _Grimm can’t use magic…_

They shouldn’t be able to, at least. Then again, Grimm shouldn’t have such a high level of intelligence either, but all of them seemed to have just that (except the wolves and hyenas, those were the easiest and most familiar to deal with).

Grimm shouldn’t be able to use magic…

And yet, that’s just what the fox does; opening its mouth as the tails fold into it, the lightning roiling over itself for a moment before releasing straight to her. The bolt comes quickly, as a lightning strike does, and Weiss is entranced by it. Black and grey instead of blue and white like it should have been, it arcs to her and the instant it connects to the middle of her abdomen, her entire body seizes. 

Now, she’s never been struck by lightning before, had felt jolts of electricity sure but never to this extent, but she has the strangest sense that lightning shouldn’t feel this _cold_. Instead of intense, burning heat, a wave of absolute zero crashes into her body, worse than those cold nights alone in Atlas at Schnee Manor. Frostbite and winter settle deep into her bones and muscles and Weiss hardly registers herself falling to her knees, rapier dropping with her, barely realizing the shout that tears free from her throat.

Her body can’t cooperate with her, mind going blank from the suffering and the cold that sets her teeth on edge and it doesn’t lessen or wane the longer it remains. Because the lightning stays, she can just barely feel it through the frost, the arcs of electricity shifting around her body and clothes and ripping scars against her skin. She can feel the path it creates, from the middle of her abdomen, splintering outward and dancing across her ribs and around to her back. It licks up her spine, to the base of her skull, vision going white then black then white and black again in an endless loop and she wonders if she was going to pass out first before her aura even breaks.

It’s still there, her aura, fending off the electricity as best as it can. Light blue sparking in irritation as black tears chunks of it to shreds. Perhaps it’s helping with the ache, and Weiss morbidly wonders just how much worse it would get once her aura breaks.

She’s tired. Everything hurts, and not just from the lightning strike.

This entire night. This entire fight.

It was hopeless.

Ruby was probably already dead, and when they reached the castle- _if_ they reached the castle- all they were going to find there was her body. And then what? What would be the point then? To continue on without her partner, her friend, the one who had taken her heart and ran with it?

Even if Ruby was okay, by some miracle or another to survive this long, alone, with the devil- how could _Weiss_ possibly help her? She was weak, having learned nothing since leaving home for Beacon the first time. She couldn’t keep Ruby safe then, and she wouldn’t be able to keep Ruby safe now.

Nothing has changed.

She was still weak and useless and a failure.

She was better off just lying here and letting the lightning and the fox get rid of her now…

Tears prick at the corners of her eyes as she squeezes them shut and she doesn’t know whether it’s from the physical pain or the sting of her self-doubts and harsh words. She doesn’t know which one she wants it to be.

She just wants this all to be over.

And it does. As soon as the thought leaves her mind, there is a sensation of pressure and weight against her shoulder, and just like that, the electricity playing with her body begins to leech away, taking the cold along with it, and Weiss shivers, breath frosting for a moment. The buzz of the lightning fades as well now that it’s not in her ears or her head, and the first thing she hears besides the chattering of her teeth or her ragged breaths is the musical sound of the fox’s tormented roar.

Her eyes lift from where they’ve been pointed toward the ground, squinting past the blurriness that gradually fades, and it’s to the sight of Ren and Jaune double-teaming the beast. Jaune stumbles back after blocking a full-on lunge from the fox with his shield, sword arm steady as his eyes peek over the top to look for an opening, waiting for the moment of distraction that comes in the form of Ren jumping onto the thing’s back, ducking beneath the whipping tails, and bringing Stormflower straight down into the fox’s haunches.

The sensation at her shoulder becomes clearer now, a hand giving a supportive squeeze, and before she turns her head, she wishes in the deepest parts of her being, the crevices of her heart and soul, for it to be Ruby. Ruby was always helping her up.

As her eyes turn and meet Nora’s crackling aqua and megawatt smile, she’s both disappointed and relieved at the same time. Disappointed that it’s not Ruby, but relieved to see a familiar face in this hellhole (relieved that Nora was still _alive_ at this point). Nora crouches at her side on one knee, gloved hand curled on Weiss’s shoulder and sapping the lightning away from her to power herself up. It’s almost unfair, she’s certainly not jealous.

“Get up, Weiss,” Nora’s thrilling smile softens into something caring and it’s alarming to see. The battle fades away and there is only her friend’s concern. As if she knows everything that had been running through Weiss’s mind just now- as if she can see the ghost of self-doubts manifested on the ex-heiress’s shoulders. 

(She wonders if this entire situation, of losing Ruby, reminds Nora of when they lost Pyrrha. So sudden and out-of-the-blue that no one could have done anything to truly stop it.)

(She wonders if Nora already mourned Ruby.)

A charged aqua gaze leaves her and Nora nods her head, a slight jerk to indicate to the area around them all. Noise rushes back in, shouts and gunshots and roars and death cries. Weiss looks as well, out to the battle, shielded for the moment to do nothing more but watch and witness.

And she does not like what she’s seeing.

“It’s not over yet,” Nora’s voice reaches hers, quiet and serious, but Weiss hardly hears it.

Ren and Jaune are beginning to struggle, the fox quicker than they had been expecting, and Jaune takes a bite to one of his thighs, somehow retaining his balance as it tries to tear him off the ground and he slashes into its face. Ren runs up, prying the fox’s maw open with his own weapons and shooting into its mouth before creating space to breathe.

Her eyes drift, drawn forth by a call of agony from a voice she hadn’t heard in pain the entire night. Nothing more than roughly 80 or so feet away from the fox and the boys, the sight of Yang crumbling to one of her knees sends a shock of panic piercing through her body worse than the lightning strike.

Something has her in its mouth, a Grimm that looks like a gargoyle and a demon all rolled into one, and even from this distance, Weiss can see smoke twining through the air from where it's biting down on Yang’s left shoulder and neck. Yang is positioned in a way where she can’t actually hit it, not effectively at least, and the more she struggles to get a grip on it or pull herself away, the more it tightens its hold and leans into her.

Blake, predictably, is close by and slashing at the gargoyle to get its attention and failing, forced to dodge its flailing clubbed tail, and she’s just about to run toward Yang instead- perhaps to shadow the both of them to safety- when a stray, rampaging minotaur crashes into her. Weiss winces with her, her throat tightening at seeing the splash of blood from where horns pierce Blake’s side, and the sound that escapes Blake is less of a shout of pain and more a snarl of fury.

They’re getting hurt.

 _Her people_ are getting _hurt_.

And she’s over here… What? Sulking? Doubting herself?

_Prove._

_Prove you can protect them._

Weiss squeezes her eyes shut, sound somehow becoming louder as she zeroes in on Ren and Jaune’s grunts of effort, their breathless battle cries, of Yang gasping and shouting her distress, of Blake calling for her partner and cursing the minotaur that is still keeping her from getting closer.

She has to protect them. She vowed to protect them long ago, and though she failed to keep Ruby safe, she sure as _hell_ was _not_ going to fail them too.

_Protect them. Protect them._

_You have to keep them safe._

Her hand shakily comes up to where Nora’s rests, squeezing her hand in thanks and apology all in one with a strength she didn’t know she carried at the moment. Her aura hums, flares, quivers with excitement and she feels lighter and lighter.

Behind closed lids, Weiss retreats into herself, backing away from all of this pain and chaos and into a world of her own inside her mind. Safe and quiet, snow crunching beneath her heels as a gentle breeze blows past her, like someone’s steady breaths, and it reminds her that she’s never alone here. Her eyes open and there, kneeling in front of her like she is its queen, is her knight. The Arma Gigas. Waiting, bowing, at her service to protect.

_You have to keep them safe._

_Protect them._

Her knight breathes an agreement, like sharp winds rushing against smooth steel, and Weiss returns to her body. Energized and determined.

Her eyes open for real this time, entering the world of black and red and blood and bodies once more, with Nora still at her side. There must be something that flashes across her face, determined and furious, because Nora gives her another squeeze and her grin turns from soft and caring to daring and excited.

“Do your thing, Ice Queen,” Nora pats her shoulder once before releasing, standing up smoothly and wielding Magnhild across her shoulder. She gives Weiss a salute and a wink and her grin turns into a smirk that one could call cruel if they didn’t know Nora. “Give them hell.”

 _Oh_ , was she fucking going to.

And then Nora’s rushing off, the black lightning of the fox now her own and crackling pink instead, heading straight to her team and Weiss knows she doesn’t have to worry about Jaune and Ren any longer. With Nora there- scratch that, with a _full-powered_ Nora there- they were definitely safe now.

Weiss remains on her knees, absentmindedly reaching over with steady fingers to Myrtenaster, and time seems to slow. Yang’s head is bowed, leaning away from the gargoyle, hands trying to pry open the mouth of the creature to no avail and on one knee. Her form seems to be getting smaller and smaller as the gargoyle leans over her, crouched above her, as if trying to bury her into the ground by sheer force alone.

Her eyes shift to the space just behind it. With limited awareness, her wrist twitches, frost leaching from her fingers like steam as she points them to the place beyond the gargoyle, a flash of light indicating the creation of a summoning glyph. It rotates and spins, swords taking the place of the snowflake’s stems.

 _Come_ , she calls for her knight, hearing its resounding echo pulse inside her chest, beside her heart, and with a beat of its own. _Protect them._

 _You_ have _to protect them at all costs._

Her glyph trembles with energy, pulsing with the beat of the secondary heart beside her own, and one armored hand reaches through. Then another, the helmet of the Arma Gigas appearing as it pulls itself free from the confines of her soul. It pushes itself out, diving straight for the gargoyle, sword materializing on its downswing.

The cry the demon releases then is enough to shatter eardrums- she grimaces in apology for Yang being _right there_ in its mouth- as the sword pierces through its back, between the sizeable and intimidating wings, and comes out through the other side of it, the tip just reaching the ground beneath. The demon lurches a bit with the new weight upon its back, and Yang falls free from its mouth, at least, as it throws its head back to howl it's agony to the open air.

Yang stumbles forward, crawling away and almost falling to her side, her hand coming up immediately to where her bomber jacket has entirely burned away and her skin blisters, red and angry. The burn reaches the curve of her shoulder and up to just behind her left ear, little fingers of it reaching for the underside of her jaw and every space in between is festering. Her aura crackles over it, gold and healing, but it looks like not enough. It probably would take the remainder of her aura just to heal that, and knowing Yang and the fact that only time could tell when this was all over, she wouldn’t be able to heal it all. 

It’ll most definitely scar.

But, she’s alive and she’s free.

And she’s _pissed_. 

Her eyes remain in their blood-red state as she turns with gritted teeth to glance at the gargoyle, catching sight of Weiss’s creation and turning her head to look for her. When their eyes meet across the battlefield, Weiss gives a bow of her head, slowly finding her balance and pushing herself off the ground to stand.

Yang looks as though she wants to attack the gargoyle, but no doubt having heard or seen Blake getting swept away by the minotaur, she knows where her priorities lie and it's not with revenge.

Weiss feels a satisfying warmth worm it’s way into her chest when Yang throws her a thumbs up and starts making a beeline to where Blake is facing off with the minotaur alone, trusting her to deal with the demon. She trusts Weiss.

Weiss will not let her down. (Not again. Not after letting Ruby be taken.)

Her focus shifts back to where her knight balances on the back of the gargoyle, only the slightest bit smaller compared to it (but Weiss could make it bigger if she really wanted to). She walks toward it without a care and without haste, trusting in the people around her to defend her, her eyes only on the scene before her. 

Her mind and the knight are one. Secondary heartbeat beating faster with excitement makes her own heart skyrocket and Weiss feels alive and energized for the first time since arriving in this wretched place.

The gargoyle can’t find a way to get the knight off of it, twisting and turning and tail swinging wildly to try and smack it off, but it's futile. Armored hands reach for the creature's wings, holding on like they were reins, and one boot presses against the hilt of its greatsword, pressing it and the gargoyle down deeper against the ground. Black blood drips like ooze from the open wound until Weiss can see it no more, the gargoyle prone with a sword straight through its chest and struggling.

She hates that thing. She hates this entire place, hates Salem for taking Ruby. (Hates herself for letting it happen. For being too weak to stop it.)

(If Salem can be violent, then so can she.)

 _Make it suffer_ , she commands, and her knight never fails to disobey.

Repositioning its foot to gain a steadier purchase on the gargoyle’s back, its hands seize for one of its flapping wings where the joint connects it to the shoulder. With each step closer, her heart drums faster and so, too, does her knight’s, pulsing and pulsing with increasing tempo. Her free hand clenches into a tight fist, aura hissing around her knuckles, and the knight pulls.

The actual tear is a lot less clean than she would’ve liked, full of jerking motions and not one smooth pull, but it works and it's painful- if the screech the demon releases is anything to go by. Red eyes flare with a frantic panic, lone wing batting away at the knight that steps away with its prize in hand, holding it like a grand treasure before tossing it haphazardly over its shoulder. 

Weiss is about to make it go for the second one, to strip the gargoyle of every appendage it has and give it a slow death like it had just tried giving Yang, but to her astonishment, desperation in a beast is a powerful motivator. 

Apparently, the damage from having its wing torn off is worse than tearing itself free from the sword, and Weiss doesn’t know whether to be impressed or terrified when the gargoyle does just that- pushing upward into the hilt of the sword and pulling higher regardless. The greatsword gives a slight resistance, but it is not enough to keep it trapped, and with the sound of flesh slowly ripping apart, the gargoyle stands erect once more.

The wound on the middle of its chest is a masterpiece to behold. Ichor drips from the hollow there, absent internal organs replaced instead with unlimited darkness and shadows. The tar falls to the ground like blood, the ground hissing for a moment in response to it, and Weiss can’t really remember the last time she saw a Grimm bleed.

The gargoyle turns its back to her then, attention only for the knight, as it lets out a battle cry and there, in one of its hands, a spark of black fire erupts into a sword of its own and it swings. Weiss’s jaw clenches at the same time the Gigas brings its arms up to defend, fire sparking off of its spectral armor and melting chunks off, pockmarking the once flawless defense. 

In response, Weiss herself brings Myrtenaster toward her, running two fingers down the line of the blade as fire wreaths around it, burning hotter and hotter and practically too much to bear before she slashes in the gargoyle’s direction. Red-orange fire, the color fire _should_ be, rams into the back of the Grimm, causing it to stumble a bit and begin to turn toward her, but her knight and her are one and the Gigas wrestles the demon’s attention back to it. A gloved hand grabs hold of the thing’s throat, the other pushing on one of the shoulders, and the knight begins pushing down, trying to dig it into the ground like it had been trying to do with Yang earlier.

The gargoyle gurgles with a sound of anger, its own hands coming up to try and pry the Gigas off, but her knight is fueled by _her_ fury and Weiss has it in spades. Weiss continues her approach, fingers clenched tighter than was probably acceptable around Mrytenaster, urging her knight to _get rid of the damn thing_. She would feel a whole lot better with it gone.

Her knight responds quickly. Shoving the gargoyle a step back, just enough for its sword to return to its hand with a flicker of blue-white specks of light. A beacon in this dark world. Arma Gigas readies its blade, Weiss feeling every movement, every subtle shift, every emotion amplified within her chest. As the gargoyle rights itself, preventing itself from falling on its back, her knight lunges, plunging the sword into the wound already on its chest to the hilt.

For a second, the world stills, narrowing to just her, her summon, and the demon she wishes to vanquish. The creature grabs hold of her knight’s wrists to try and pull out the blade, but she will not be pushed away any longer. With a simple thought, a single command- _Kill it_ \- her knight seems to let out a sharp exhale before driving the blade upward, arcing over and slicing clean through the shadows of least resistance. There is a single moment where the blade stops, right where the skull is, but that too gives away, and the blade swings free, the corpse of the gargoyle falling in two halves to opposite sides.

A spray of dark ichor sails through the air, a crescent of black blood above her knight, and it falls like heavy raindrops to the glowing white armor as the Gigas stands tall, proud, blade in one hand and head turning back in the direction of its fallen opponent. Weiss stands a couple of feet away from the body as it begins to evaporate, thick like smoke from a fire into the air to form a noxious cloud. The blood on her summon’s armor drips off like coiling shadows, dark ink slipping away to reveal the brilliant white glow of _her_. Her soul given physical form. Unmarred by darkness.

The knight steps over the disappearing body, through the cloud of tenebrous smoke, and stands before her for a moment, sword pointed downward in both of its hands now. Weiss feels the secondary heartbeat resonate with her own, fluttering with satisfaction and relief, and she breathes out a sigh of gratitude as she whispers, “Thank you.”

It drops to one knee, bowing its head toward her, and Weiss reaches out with one hand to press the palm against the curving edges and sloping lines of the helmet. As soon as she does, a pulse reverberates through her, from all around and she can’t tell if it's coming from within her, the Gigas, or the world. She draws in a deep breath that satisfies her burning lungs, a person drawing in air after drowning for so long, and she feels a chill pass over her.

Not like the frost and the winter from the black lightning of the Grimm, but instead, a familiar and gratifying sensation that can only be of getting a new summon in her arsenal. If she focuses hard enough, she thinks she can see it happening in real-time, wisps of the black smoke of the disappearing gargoyle turning into an indistinguishable white glow, floating through the air and to her and seeping into her skin. She thinks she can _feel_ herself glowing, aura thrumming with new power, and it's an addicting sensation that leaves her feeling accomplished when it passes.

The gargoyle is hers now.

And she would summon it now if she could, but she doesn’t because her knight is here and it is the one she trusts the most, and also because she feels just the slightest hint of resentment toward the thing she just killed. (It would be a while yet before she summons _anything_ she received from tonight’s battle.)

Instead, Weiss smiles, drawing her hand back from her knight and urging it to stand with a gentle push of her thoughts. It does so without complaint, ever her loyal partner, and she knows she isn’t so alone anymore. Even without Ruby. (Though, she’d undoubtedly prefer Ruby here.)

Her eyes flicker ahead, past her knight, to the darkness ahead and the castle in the far distance. Her knight follows her gaze, quiet and waiting for orders, and when it looks back at her, she gives it a nod that it returns with a bow.

 _To the castle,_ she commands, _get us to the castle_.

_Kill anything that gets in the way._

The glowing greatsword lifts high into the air, raised like a flag for the army of huntsmen and huntresses, and her knight turns and leads the charge with long, thundering steps. She pours just a bit more energy into her summon, just enough so it stands above all the other Grimm nearby, sword larger too. As it reaches the nearest Grimm, a huddled group of poor wolves not knowing what’s coming to them, and with a mighty swing that rips through the earth as well, the sword tears through them all in a single moment.

Her knight continues, swinging wide with each step it takes, quite literally carving a path through the darkness and shadows (and earth and crystals too). Weiss is about to run to follow, to pick off stragglers behind it so her summon wouldn’t be surrounded, but a call of her name has her hesitate for a moment, turning to look behind her where Blake and Yang are running up to her.

“Weiss, what-” Yang pants for air, gesturing to the knight with both hands (the left just a tad bit more restrained with the burn there), eyes wide with surprise and glowing with excitement and hope. Blake looks on, impressed, one hand absentmindedly dabbing at her side where the horns had stabbed and Weiss wonders just how long all of them could keep going if they continued getting injured like that. The gash on Blake’s face makes her want to wince, fighting the urge to reach for her own face scar and remembering just how much it had hurt and how much it affected her seeing it every day until she got used to it. “What the _fuck_?!”

“We need a path, right?” Weiss feels the slightest bit smug, even more so hearing the calls of awe and surprise of those who were unfamiliar with her summons. (She wonders if Winter is nearby, watching it happen, and she hopes she’s impressed too.) “Well, I’m making one.”

Yang laughs then, boisterous and incredulous and it reminds them all of a simpler time then- when none of them were beaten and bruised and tired like they are now. Weiss hopes they can reach something like that again (because she knows it’ll never be the same, even when this was all over and they, with luck, found peace. They can only ever find something similar to it). 

“We should keep up then,” Blake says, nodding to the both of them, twirling her blades and bouncing on her toes to keep herself mobile, the adrenaline coursing. “Let’s do this quickly.”

“Are you sure you can keep it going?” Yang, ever the mother hen, asks her and honestly, Weiss doesn’t know the answer to that. Exhaustion and fatigue are quickly catching up to her, right at her peripherals, and Weiss was already doing her best to push them aside, just for a moment longer. 

She needs to do this.

Ruby is waiting for them. Ruby needed them.

Exhaustion and future health issues from overusing her semblance be damned.

“I have to,” Weiss responds and it doesn’t sit well in either of them; Blake and Yang frown at her and look a little less excited, but Weiss just shakes her head and steadies her grip on her weapon, repeating, “I _have_ to. I’ll keep it up as long as I can, but Blake’s right. We have to do this quickly. The faster we get there, the less energy I use. Now, let’s _go_.”

They want to argue with her, especially Yang if the looks on their faces are anything to go by. Weiss stiffens for half a second, prepared to argue with them too, but Blake must notice her unyielding expression because she lets out a low sigh before brushing her fingers against Yang’s shoulder, shaking her head when her partner looks at her, and they both relent.

Weiss breathes a sigh of relief before turning, leading the charge so she’s just behind her knight. Yang shouts for the others, those close enough to listen, to follow as well, and just like that, their friends and allies fall into an orderly fashion with a fluidity quite surprising considering most of them had never fought together before. If she stops to look at it all, she’d consider it beautiful.

The mood in the air changes then.

Everybody, now seeing just how much distance they were making in such a quick amount of time, fights with more fervor than before. Adrenaline pumping and hearts racing, the entire army moves as one being rather than hundreds and hundreds of individuals just trying to survive and clear out one Grimm after the next.

Settling into step behind her knight and beside her teammates, Weiss feels hopeful. They have a chance now, a possibility, and it only continues to grow with each swing of her knight’s greatsword, every step of an armored boot, every dying groan and rising cloud of smoke from annihilated Grimm. A mob of lesser wolves and hyenas and even the jaguars are cut down with each swath of the greatsword, the others picking off the remnants that happen to escape her knight’s area of attack.

Minotaurs charge, but though her knight is large and armored, it moves deftly with a grace she often shows herself, stepping out of range and decapitating the heads of each one as they run by. One evades getting hit, crashing into a gravity glyph she places in front of her and is sent skyrocketing into the air instead. Blake is thrown upward with the help of Yang, clones swinging her higher and out of range as one by one, they crackle with lightning that zaps into the bull, frying it within moments.

Blake falls a short distance, landing on her feet on a platform Weiss makes with an almost distracted flick of her wrist at the same time the ex-heiress ducks to avoid being snatched by a diving harpy, the tip of her rapier digging into its side as it goes by and ripping it open. The harpy screeches, still moving and going directly into Yang’s path. Yang instinctively reaches out with one hand, catching the jaw of the creature before turning and slamming it into the ground, lifting her boot, and driving it against its head.

They all continue moving, knowing that even if the Grimm they attack don’t immediately die, there are people behind them ready to pick them off as well.

Blake hops down a stairwell of glowing, white glyphs with frightening speed, descending upon a horde of hyenas that slobber and snap at her as soon as she’s within reach. The air swirls and shifts before suddenly erupting into a miniature tornado around them, catching all of the stray beasts and sending them flying this way and that as Blake re-appears a step behind Weiss.

Weiss grits her teeth at the same time her knight meets resistance in the form of another gargoyle, blade of black fire sparking against the greatsword of white light. Her steps falter for a second, chest cramping with a sudden ache that nearly makes her double over simultaneously as a fox with nine whipping tails shoots a bolt of lightning into her knight’s side.

Her faltered steps earns her a claw to the face from overhead, the pulse of pain making her concentration waver and her knight is forced to retreat back a few steps, nearly stepping on top of her, but it’s enough to push whatever had tried attacking her from the air (when she chances a glance upward through the fresh trail of blood she wipes away quickly, she sees a bat-like humanoid trying to flutter away and earns a missile flare to the back from Yang instead). She feels at the fresh cut with a finger, grimacing with concern at just how near her previous scar it was and knowing that it was only going to leave another one.

Blake has the right idea. They shouldn’t waste their aura healing cuts and gashes that aren’t immediately life-threatening.

(It just means they all will have plenty of scars by the time the night is over. But that was fine.

She can live with scars.

She can’t live without Ruby.)

Her knight is struggling and Weiss will not have that. She thrusts her blade into the ground beneath her, revolver clicking to the earth cartridge, and she places her free hand against the red rocks as well. Her eyes fall shut in concentration, feeling the link between herself and the Arma Gigas connecting them with an invisible thread from her chest to its. She forces a second connection to the ground beneath her, the ground all around them, and though she’s expecting it from using earth dust earlier, the sinister chill that roils through her skin leaves behind an unpleasant sensation. Like sticky tar staining her body, her clothes, trying to seep into her very soul.

She didn’t stay long enough to let it happen, only for her to make the ground move to her command.

Where the gargoyle blocks the path ahead, the ground trembles for a moment, loose rocks jumping and skittering. Then it stills and as Weiss opens her eyes, her teeth grit together and her knight readies itself at the same time spears of the unnaturally colored earth shoot out from beneath the demon, skewering it in different places instantly and pinning it there. More spears form in all directions, fanning out at random and impaling anything that they can.

The cartridge of earth dust clicks empty then and Weiss pushes herself to her feet again, her knight moving forward with her permission and hacking away at the immobile gargoyle. It’s a little unfair and she almost feels bad for it, all things considered. Yang and Blake rush to her side, the former with embers flicking around her shoulders and the tips of her hair but not quite reaching that combustion her semblance was known for, and the latter standing at the ready with dual-blades extended, prepared to slice and tear apart anything that could pose a threat to her. Weiss lets out an alleviating breath, finally given the time to replace the empty vials of dust.

She moves quickly with practiced precision, hardly looking down at her weapon as she does so and surveying the land once more. At her side, Yang shoots another missile flare above them, the resulting explosion making her lower her head a bit, and the piercing screams of a flock of harpies making her ears throb. The castle was difficult to see now that they reached where the swarm of bat-like humanoids fly, each of them diving for any lone person and trying to grab them with clawed feet. Poison drips from their fangs and Weiss hopes nobody is bitten by one of them.

Mrytenaster clicks shut, spinning with renewed vials and she gives her teammates cursory glances, a silent signal to keep going. Together, they charge ahead, her knight still leading the way around the remaining earth spikes. The diving bats begin to annoy her; Blake and Yang and her stabbing and jabbing and cleaving each of them away and remaining close enough to defend each other should one of them be grabbed.

One wrenches Yang’s already wounded shoulder from its socket, but it’s quickly felled by a shock of Weiss’s lightning from the tip of her blade and a vengeful Blake. Yang pops her shoulder back in with a low rumbling growl, hardly flinching, her hand never ceasing from its tremble when she isn’t punching a monster, and her prosthetic is beginning to show a bit of wear and tear itself. She shoots a stray missile at the swarm off to the side, hoping it will cause at least a bit of distraction and kill a few in the process, and quickly reloads her gauntlets.

They keep moving.

A fake fox dies beneath her rapier, the will-o’-wisp floating away before she can try and destroy that too and Weiss has to turn away from it and hope that whenever the real body of the fox appears, someone would be able to handle it. Her knight punches a minotaur into the crowd of waiting darkness when its sword is too busy lodged into the ground from where it had stabbed down into a jaguar. 

They keep moving.

Blake throws herself at a lunging wolf, skidding below it and tearing into its abdomen as she approaches safe on the other side. Keeping the momentum going, she somersaults forward over a diving harpy, spinning around to face it and slashing into the air, aura shining along her cleaver before flying free. (Weiss thinks Blake is particularly resentful toward the harpies for whatever reason.)

They keep moving.

Until they can move no more.

Weiss feels it first. Well, more accurately, her knight feels it first. A few feet ahead of them, her summon hacks away at another group of the foot soldiers, but curiously enough, the ground begins to tremble. The crystals that had been placed seemingly at random all around the battlefield fade out at once and shatter into specks of dust and the synchrony and bizarreness of it makes her worried enough to make the Gigas pause for a moment. Long enough for them to catch up.

Glancing up once again, intermittent moments throughout it all, the castle is much closer than before. If she had to guess, they are roughly past the halfway mark, just one final push would have been enough- but of course, something always has to get in their way.

The fighting slows for a bit as everyone looks around with pinched brows, even more confused when a lot of the Grimm seem to make room from the path ahead of them. As if they were running from something…

Yang and Blake stand behind her, her knight ten, twenty feet ahead, and Weiss feels safe enough to close her eyes. She pushes her aura out once more into the ground, a shining glyph at her feet, and the sickening sensation rolls over her once more. She goes farther than the surface, and the deeper down she goes, the harder it becomes to breathe and it feels like _she’s_ going into the ground, buried beneath miles and miles of rock and dirt.

She reaches something. Something _moving_.

And something colossal.

For a second, she can almost see it. A flash of blanched bone designed with an ominously glowing red overtop of a body made of midnight and tar. A singular, smoldering red eye glares back at her and she’s forced back into her body with a wet gasp.

Yang- or maybe Blake- steadies her from behind and one or the other is asking if she’s okay, but she can’t concentrate on that. No, no all she can see, all she can feel, is that thing coming and the closer it gets, the more the ground shakes and her knight is directly in its path.

“ _Move_ !” The command, the _plea_ , rips out of her mouth even though she doesn’t need to speak aloud for her knight to listen. It doubles back as quickly as it can, and she herself turns and pushes Blake and Yang back, but it’s not enough.

The ground explodes.

Splintering and cracking, the very plates themselves shifting to make room for whatever that _thing_ was as it forces its way up, Weiss feels her knight fall over itself, unbalanced and crashing into the floor, but it still does its best to crawl away. Debris fly in all directions, erupting like a volcano and they were right in its path. Everybody hurries back as quickly as they can, the stray Grimm giving them mercy for once and not immediately charging at those who fall.

When the ground stops shaking, Weiss opens her eyes with a grimace, clutching at one of her legs that had been stabbed by the flying shrapnel. She brushes away the pieces, pulling out one in particular that had embedded itself deep into her leg, and regretfully begins to pool her aura into healing herself. Dust and dirt float through the air, slowly beginning to settle and clear up, but as she squints back in the direction where her knight still glows, her heart drops at the sight of such a large shadow in the cloud.

Blake and Yang are clutching her fiercely and her own arms are wrapped around them just as protectively, but gradually, they all begin to pull apart to stand. The smoke clears and she nearly drops her weapon entirely, a hot flash of fear vanishing every other emotion until only it remains.

A monster stands before them, that’s the best word to describe it. A colossal beast larger than anything they faced tonight.

It has the visage of a lizard, except lizards aren’t usually muscular or bulky or armored with bones that look like scales all along the top of its body. The word _drake_ flutters through her mind upon seeing the thing, wingless dragons from fairy tales and storybooks that Ruby often showed her during relaxing moments in the library at Beacon. She always thought it childish. (Nothing about this was childish anymore.)

Instead of four legs, eight legs hold the monstrosity steady, each of them spread out and armored and clawed just like the rest of its body, and even with it low to the ground, it still towers above everything else on the battlefield. A crest of horns sit near the back of its head, teeth from the bottom jaw visible even with its mouth closed as they scrape against bone. 

Six, glowing red eyes stare before them, looking down, and Weiss feels herself shiver as that gaze passes over her. A low rumble trembles in its throat, reptilian in nature and highly amused, and its long, winding tail sways in the air behind it.

It raises its head a little higher- the underside of it unprotected by the armor- and tilts its jaw toward the sky, the bones in its jaw shifting and snapping and opening slowly before it lets out a tremendous roar. Weiss presses her free hand to one of her ears and she faintly registers Blake, at her side, doubling over in pain from the sheer volume, cat ears flat against her head and hands uselessly trying to block out the noise.

The cry is a signal, she quickly learns, because the rest of the Grimm start moving once more, catching more than a few people by surprise. Weiss narrows her eyes, fear urging her on, her knight, immune to the drake’s booming voice, charges forward, unafraid. Her heart beats wildly beside the second one there, the one that remains steady and calm and she tries to match it.

By sheer thought alone, she forms a stairway of glyphs leading up to the head of the creature that her knight jumps up, greatsword at the ready. It leaps, and even the size difference between the two is laughable. Her knight is the largest she could make it already, considering the energy she had remaining, and even still, it is probably only half of the drake’s _head_.

Gripping onto one of the grooves on the skull-armored face, her knight chops at the face of the beast, the sword of light bouncing off uselessly and only making slight scratches in those places. As she directs it to stab at the eyes, her knight follows, but a protective layer seems to cover them, and the drake only lets out another amused sound. It was _laughing_ at her.

The drake remains calm, considering an armored knight was hacking away at its face and raises its head a little higher in the air- ignoring the pesky thing. The muscles in its throat seem to quiver, and at first, Weiss thinks it's because it’s still laughing or making that rumbling sound that urges the rest of the Grimm into a frenzy.

But the closer she examines it, the more she focuses on it, the more it looks like the muscles are contracting as if it's inhaling deeply. Its mouth parts slightly and Weiss has a terrible, terrible feeling of what was about to come.

Moving on pure instinct alone, she lunges forward, stabbing Myrtenaster into the ground with a panic, glyph shining to life as a wall of shielding ice forms in front of the three of them. Blake and Yang follow her, trusting her, pressing as close to her as possible without even knowing what was about to happen.

Weiss can’t scream for the others behind them to move- and she wishes and begs and hopes that they see her moving to defend from _something_ and get the hell out of the way.

Through the ice she made, Weiss can barely see the drake, blurry as it is, but with her knight there, it’s as though she can see it perfectly.

Drakes, Ruby told her during their library expeditions, are wingless dragons. Dragons have a breath attack, the most popular being fire- so drakes can use it too.

Ruby wasn’t wrong.

A stream of sickly, green fire spews from the open mouth of the monster, poison and flames all in one and the screams are instantaneous. Weiss huddles closer, pouring her aura into her ice wall and grimacing with the effort it takes to maintain it. The air around them becomes filled with blight and her and Blake and Yang immediately begin coughing, pulling scarves and hands over their mouths and noses and Weiss squeezes her eyes shut. The _whoosh_ of the flames as they go by is not quite loud enough to cover the sounds of people crying in agony.

Something goes wrong then. 

Something always goes wrong. 

The jerking movement as the drake swishes its head from side-to-side, trying to spread its acidic fire everywhere, causes her knight to lose its grip.

And then it’s falling, and so is she.

Falling, falling, falling...

Right into the path of the toxic blaze.

The world seems to fall into slow-motion. The knight tries to extend its hands out every which way to grab _something_ , even dispelling its sword to give it more opportunities, but it falls too quickly and the drake’s head is jerking in the opposite direction before it comes back to the front. Through the eyes of her summon, she looks toward the castle in the distance, so much closer than before. So close, yet so far, and Weiss curses their luck for being so incredibly horrible.

They were always running into obstacles.

Before her knight reaches the flames, she has the briefest thought of Winter’s lectures. Her sister, teaching her about their unique ability to summon those they had slain when Weiss always struggled with it. Winter had warned her not to treat your summon with disrespect. It was less of a servant or a construct that followed your every whim, and more a part of _you_.

When it felt pain, so did you. When you felt pain, so did it.

And the utmost _suffering_ that her knight feels upon contact is indescribable. It’s so intense that for the first second, Weiss’s entire being goes numb. The secondary, spectral heart within her chest quivers, stopping for a moment, before shattering into a million pieces like broken glass, and in the next second, when the feeling comes back, it feels as though a full-powered Nora had taken Magnhild and rammed it directly into her chest. She feels and hears a _crack_ and she cries in sheer, unadulterated agony at the same time her knight lets out a metallic scream.

The poison fire melts and dissolves the armor in a matter of seconds and Weiss can’t breathe anymore. The knight more liquifies than vanishes by her will, dying, and the space by her heart feels so terribly empty it’s almost worse than the pain. Every part of her feels like it’s burning, melting, disappearing, and every one of her senses pulses with the torture and she thinks it might never end.

She struggles to stay awake, white noise filtering in her ears, and she quickly realizes that she fails at keeping her eyes open.

Weiss doesn’t know how much time goes by, it feels like forever, but gradually, she wakes to the sensation of someone’s hands on her face and shoulders. The discomfort is gone, just at the edge of her senses now, a soreness deep within her muscles and bones, and her chest aches with an awful kind of pain. Her eyelids feel heavy and she struggles to open them for a few moments, but when she manages to do it, everything is blurry and the sky is still red. 

Two people are hovering over her, and she can’t entirely see their faces, but their hands are warm and soothing against the echoing pangs of suffering and she wants to drift off to sleep. But there is a tug deep within her aching chest, pulling her forward, and the constant thought of _Ruby, Ruby, I have to save Ruby_ forces her to return fully to her body, blinking away the blur.

Her vision returns sluggishly, but when it does, she’s met with the terrified and teary faces of Blake and Yang. There are wet trails on Yang’s face and panic in Blake’s eyes and it’s touching, their concern for her. She didn’t know she was that important to them.

Blake’s lips move and Weiss can’t hear her through the white noise, so she closes her eyes again and inhales slowly, urging her senses to respond, and when she reaches for her aura, she can’t find it anymore. 

Huh. 

That wasn’t good.

Yang looks up, shouts for someone, but to her, all sound is warped.

She closes her eyes again. She wants to keep them closed.

She’s so tired. Everything hurts.

_It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it-_

All of a sudden, there’s relief and a cooling sensation washes over her and she gasps harshly.

Her eyes peel open once more, flicking from Blake and Yang to the other figure that now hovers over her and she wants to let out a bitter laugh, but that would most definitely be uncomfortable. Here was Jaune, helping her again. She still hadn’t repaid him for saving her from Cinder’s spear back at Haven, and now she owed him yet again.

Jaune’s brows are furrowed in concern, face streaked with sweat and grime and traces of blood that she doesn’t want to ask if it belongs to him or someone else.

Noise comes back to her, and the first thing she hears is the wonderful sound of the drake screaming again. Joy. Weiss grimaces a bit and the pain begins to, thankfully, ebb away from the fringe of her awareness.

“Weiss?” Yang’s voice is the epitome of heartbreak, cracking in a way that hurts to hear. It draws blue eyes to Yang’s face, blinking lethargically, as she waits for a response. “Can you hear us?”

Her tongue feels heavy in her mouth and she faintly tastes copper on it, so she chooses to nod slowly instead. When she reaches for her aura again, she finds it- weak and revived by Jaune’s semblance, but there. One good hit would probably be enough to break it again, and she doesn’t know whether she wants to complain or not when Jaune remains at her side, still restoring her defenses. He should really be saving his aura for someone more useful.

“Oh thank gods,” Yang sniffs and it looks like she’s restraining herself from lunging at Weiss. One of her hands comes up to wipe at her eyes. “Don’t scare us like that, Weiss.”

“What…” it’s torture to talk but she clears her throat and tries again. Blake helps her to sit up and it’s only then that she realizes her ice wall is still miraculously there. On top of that, Ren and Nora are hovering around them, defending them all from the creatures of Grimm. “What happened?”

As soon as she’s sitting up, Jaune pulls away then, sitting back against his calves and letting out a tired sigh. Yang brings her into a much gentler embrace than she had been expecting and Weiss closes her eyes again, bringing one hand weakly to wrap around her in return as she breathes in the warm scent of citrus and the comforting hearth. Blake is on her other side, one hand on Weiss’s back, keeping her steady, and she bumps her forehead into the back of Weiss’s shoulder, staying there in a timid hug.

Her question hangs in the air for a few moments, before Yang whispers-

“Your heart stopped.” _Oh_. “You suddenly screamed and collapsed and… Blake couldn’t hear your heartbeat.”

She very well feels like correcting her, because it wasn’t _her_ heart that stopped. It was her knight’s, but then again, maybe it was hers too. No wonder they looked so scared.

“Don’t do that again,” Blake murmurs from behind her, voice shaky with held-back tears, and Weiss reaches with her other hand to her, Blake immediately wrapping their fingers together tightly and giving a squeeze. “ _Don’t_ do that again, Weiss.”

“I’m sorry,” she says because it feels like the right thing to say. Her voice trembles and she swallows back tears and it’s so hard to believe, having these people care about her. _My family. My people._ “I’m sorry.”

Another bellow from the drake cuts their moment short and Weiss almost lets out a groan. She’s so unbelievably tired, but they had to keep moving. They had a monster to fight now, and they still weren’t at the castle yet. 

Blake and Yang don’t move immediately and Weiss savors the moment with them.

But, as always, duty called. They had to keep going.

With great reluctance, Blake sniffs before pulling away first, standing up smoothly and wandering over to pick up where Gambol Shroud lay discarded on the ground. Yang takes a little longer to let go, but eventually, she does and looks at Weiss with a soft smile, patting the top of her head before standing up, helping Weiss do the same.

Jaune stands awkwardly off to the side, and when his eyes catch hers, he gives a sheepish grin and she nearly feels bad for him. He still acted as though he expected her to yell at him all the time. He steps closer, extending Mrytenaster to her, blade pointed down, and Weiss accepts it but also pulls him into a quick hug as well.

“Thanks,” she murmurs against his chest and he whispers back in return, “Of course.”

Their moment is over as quickly as it began, Weiss stepping away, wiping away the few tears that had managed to escape, and she takes in a deep breath to try and pull herself together again. The fight is still going, and as she looks out, her stomach drops with the amount now lying on the ground, bodies hissing from the acid flames and smoldering. Grimm step all over the dead without care- Grimm that were apparently immune to the drake’s fire- and she wants to kill them all.

But they had to keep moving.

Weiss turns and walks forward with her family.

They peek around the lingering ice wall, eyes on the drake who has moved from its position and was now fighting _someone_. A closer look reveals Penny’s spinning blades as the girl moved through the air, always in constant motion and just barely dodging the chomping bite from such a strong jaw. Weiss has little doubt that it would crush anyone in half if it got a hold of them.

Even more surprising than seeing Penny, a flash of light has her head turning just in time to see Raven extending a hand, air shimmering with a faint yellow spark, lightning streaking out and meeting the drake’s side. Another follows, and then another, each one charring the clean-white bone and caving it in little by little. A fox leaps for Raven, but she simply steps aside and splits it in half with her blade, the fox a fake as it turns into a will-o’-wisp that she then extends a hand out too, clutching it and squeezing it until it vanishes.

Weiss can’t summon anymore. Not her knight at least, and whatever she _can_ summon would not be strong enough in this fight.

“We can keep going?” Yang suggests, looking back at her and the others and Weiss wants to agree with her. They can, in theory, just scoot around the drake. Let the others deal with it. 

But as soon as that thought enters and leaves her mind, the image of all of the dead bodies flashes in her eyes and she sees them all without having to look behind her.

“Trying to run from a fight, Yang?” Nora is the one to speak first, hefting her hammer against her shoulder, and for all the exhaustion everyone exhibits, Nora still seems to have so much energy left. Weiss is jealous of that. Her grin is a bit manic. “Nah, I want to kill that thing.”

“It killed so many of our allies… our friends,” Ren’s voice is clipped with ferocity hiding beneath the surface, a hard look in his eyes and a white-knuckle grip to his weapons. “I’m not letting that go.”

“Me either,” Jaune saddles up beside his teammates, checking over Crocea Mors and frowning at the slight chips and marks on both the sword and the shield.

“Then we all agree,” Blake speaks without looking at them, eyes calculating along the beast’s body, looking for weak points that were already being made by the two maidens. Her eyes drift over to Yang and the two share a silent communication before she nods. (Weiss misses that. Misses being able to do that with Ruby.) 

( _Soon_ , she reminds herself, _soon she will be back with us_.)

“Weiss?” Yang turns to her and her concern is touching. It makes her want to apologize, again, for apparently dying on them, even if it was only for a few minutes at most. Knowing Yang, she was going to be repeating those minutes for the rest of her life with regret.

Weiss, in truth, doesn’t want to engage the thing. Her knight, her strongest summon, the most powerful manifestation of her soul she could muster, hadn’t been able to do _anything_. But then again, it had been alone.

Here, she was with them. Her family. Her people.

She sure as hell wasn’t going to let them run into danger without her.

“Let’s do it,” the revolver shifts and clicks into place, the ice dust snapping into place, and she is ready. “I look forward to summoning that thing.”

The others snort and Nora laughs, and as one, all six of them begin running toward it.

And though Weiss is tired- _so, so fucking tired_ \- being here, with her family, fighting by their sides, gives her energy unlike any other.

She runs.

**_…_ **

**:They’re coming for you.**

**You know it, you can feel it, deep in the crevices of your very heart.**

**Blake.**

**Yang.**

**Weiss.**

**They’re here.**

**Through the stained glass wall, like the windows of a wicked cathedral for the devil herself, you watch it all. From the moment the splash of colors start appearing in this ruined world of red and black, beneath the rays of the full silver moon, you’ve stood here. Not really knowing why you were here.**

**She wants you to stand here, so here you stand. Here you watch.**

**Something doesn’t feel right with you. Your senses are not your own. Your emotions are not your own. Your body is not your own. There is something deep within the remnants of your soul, through the taint and the poison of Salem’s power and corruption, that cries. That fights back, a speck of light in a world of darkness.**

**You think it’s you that’s trying to fight back.**

**These memories feel wrong. You know they’re here for you, you know these people mean something to you, yet you…**

**You’re not happy, and though that minuscule and unimportant part still struggling feels the slightest flicker of relief, the emotions you feel are twisted.**

**Salem has done something to you. You’re aware of it, but… You can’t fight it. No matter how much you try, how much you** _tried_ **to resist at first, how much you wish to return to yourself.**

**You think maybe you don’t want to return to yourself.**

**You were weak before.**

**Those people made you weak.**

**Now, Salem has made you strong.**

**She has saved you from them, and now they’re here, trying to get you back. You don’t want to go back. They failed you time and time again, they belittled you, judged you, doubted you. They betrayed you.**

**You want them dead.**

**You want to kill them.**

**Out on the battlefield, there is an explosion of fire in the air, a figure drops from the sky. Moments after, ice and lightning explode toward the sky, and-** _there_ **. You see a glowing figure of white, taller than all of Salem’s wonderful creations (the things she made just for you, just so she can protect you, and there they are, killing them).**

**They’re making progress.**

**The glowing white figure makes something in your chest ache and you grimace, the flicker of light brightening for a moment, and you feel sick all over. Your hands go to your head, gripping strands of your hair unforgivingly and pressing harshly against your temples, voices and whispers and memories trying to escape and leach away and you can’t let them.**

**Salem must sense your distress, because within moments that the knight appears, so does the drake- your greatest defender. The knight falls and disappears and you’ve never felt happier. (You still feel sick. You don’t know why. Something is trying to bash its way free from your chest and you’re afraid it might be your heart trying to abandon you too.)**

**There are more flashes of light, dust and magic in use, and the drake is struggling. They are closer now, you can just make out moving colors that are so terribly familiar you want them dead. Blake’s wispy shadows, some of which explode into a fiery inferno. Yang’s glowing golden hair, embers and light flaking from her body and making her a beacon that draws your attention.**

**Weiss. Her glyphs appear everywhere, platforms and propulsions and nets for the others to leap to and from to keep them safe. Beautiful.**

**Your chest hurts. Your head hurts. (Everything hurts… Oh gods, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts-)**

**It wasn’t like that when they weren’t here. If you get rid of them, maybe this feeling will go away. Maybe you will be stronger.**

**They are coming to take you from Salem’s arms, the only place you have ever felt safe, and you will not let them steal you. Not without a fight. Your fingers itch, twitching, and a shiver passes through you. You grit your teeth and feel the sinister veins crawling beneath your skin.**

**You inhale sharply when a hand, cold to the touch like it always was but oh so warm just for you, wraps around the back of your neck. It feels like a warning, an admonishment, but also, encouraging. Endearing. Salem’s thumb runs against your skin and your shivers stop, the pain in your head and your heart and your everything fading for a moment.**

**(You feel sicker, and it only gets worse.)**

**(Oh gods, oh gods, they have to save you. Someone has to save you. You can’t stand this anymore, you can’t stand it, you can’t-)**

**“Let’s make this interesting,” Salem’s voice is grounding. You tilt your head to the side, just the slightest bit, just to hear her better. Pieces of your hair fall into your face, and for some reason that annoys you- like your hair was never supposed to be this long, reaching past your shoulders now. You almost want to rip it right off your skull. You’re just about to do it.**

**Energy pulses within you and the breath escapes your body, every muscle and bone tightening and contracting and seizing with momentary torture before you feel rejuvenated. Better. Stronger. The veins crawl higher beneath your skin, expanding farther, and you can faintly see your reflection in the glass.**

**Your skin is pale and you think maybe it shouldn’t look like this. It’s not white, not like Salem’s, because you will never be as strong as her, but it’s not the same as before. Whether it be lack of nutrients- cause you can’t exactly remember ever having a meal here, but someone is keeping you alive- or Salem’s power, you don’t entirely know. The veins are visible against your cheek, across your face, at your temples. They look like they hurt. You think it hurts, but you’re not entirely sure. (This will make you stronger.)**

**(Eyes shouldn’t look like this. Black where white should be, red where bright silver once was.**

**It’s unsettling. You look away from your reflection.)**

**Your aura flutters, red all over your body, but even that isn’t right. A majority of it is stained with black, the sign of your corruption, and wisps of shadows leach from your body every now and then.**

**Salem stands behind you, hand still on the back of your neck, and you know you will never compare to her. Which is fitting. She is your master, your creator, and you are only a creation. Only a tool, only a weapon.**

**You think you fit the role just right.**

**So when she whispers, “Destroy them,” and releases you, you don’t hesitate to listen. You begin to breathe again, reaching for your weapon strapped to your back. A scythe. How fitting.**

**For you are a reaper, and you have been given your targets.**

**Salem moves aside, giving you space, and for a moment as you prepare to fall into that semblance of yours, a dash full of rose petals and ribbons of shadows, you get the strange desire to turn to her, to attack** _her_ **. It’s gone before you can make anything of it, but it’s unsettling.**

**It’s wrong.**

**Salem isn’t your enemy.**

**They are.**

**Blake.**

**Yang.**

**Weiss.**

**The ones you once called teammates. The ones you once called friends, family.**

**The ones you once loved.**

**They are your targets.**

**You will not fail.**

**With a rush of wind and the sound of breaking glass, powered by Salem’s wonderful gift, you** _soar_ **to the battlefield.**

**The hunt begins.:**

**_…_ **

**_~:Watch me cry all my tears (distorted):~_ **

Weiss hisses between her teeth, shielded by a last-minute wall of stone made courtesy of one Raven Branwen. She didn’t make it in time, and the only reason she made it at all before the drake released another spout of acidic fire is because of Yang practically ripping her arm off to pull her in. Only flecks of the flames actually touched her, but the skin of her right thigh is already beginning to blister unpleasantly and it _burns_. It feels as though everything, muscle and skin and sinew, is melting straight to the bone and she’s just about driven crazy enough to cut off her leg.

But Yang holds her close and the angle is too awkward for her to do so, so Weiss doesn’t. For now.

They both cough and Yang has a wild look in her eyes as they dart around, taking note of where the others are, and Weiss can practically _feel_ Yang’s panic when she can’t find Blake. Weiss wants to comfort her, but the smog in the air is poisoning deep within her lungs and it’s getting all the more difficult to breathe, and when she coughs again, her hand comes away with a bit of blood.

They have to hurry. If the drake continued using its poison fire- which it only seemed to be able to use on occasion, thankfully. Every few minutes and they had timed it by now to try and stop it from using its breath- then it would most definitely kill them anyway. Death by poison and coughing out her lungs is not the way she wants to go.

The drake cries in pain, the fires rolling away slowly and disappearing, and Weiss exchanges a look and a nod with Yang before the two are running around the stone wall. All things considered, they were doing a fairly good job. With the six of them and the two maidens, and a handful of other people as well, the drake was beginning to struggle.

Entire pieces of its bone armor had been broken off, whether by the maidens’ magic or repeated abuse from Nora’s hammer and Yang’s fist, and the soft underlayer of its body had been pierced time and time again as well. Fountains of black blood drip continuously from those wounds, staining the ground with ominous shadows that everyone made a point to avoid, and it moves with the desperation of a cornered animal.

They just need a little more push.

But even still… that little push seemed impossible.

Weiss is on her last dust reserves by now, only sparingly using it. Blake had used all of hers entirely, unable to make elemental clones anymore and simply doing her best to hack away at the armor to reveal a more vulnerable spot. They just needed a strong enough hit, and though Raven and Penny are probably their hardest hitters, they are beginning to run on fumes. Everyone is.

The drake sweeps around in a tight and sudden circle, and Weiss catches sight of Blake flying off of the thing’s back where she had been trying to hang on. With a flick of her wrist, Weiss uses the last of her gravity dust to catch her friend with a glyph before she’s sent much farther away than was probably safe. Yang twitches as though to immediately run to Blake, but she lets out a harsh breath before changing directions, running straight to the drake.

All of them are getting desperate, and at this point, it was a matter of who would give first.

A clawed hand smacks Penny from the air and Ren is the closest one to her, running over to make sure she was fine. Raven looks like she wants to be anywhere but here at the moment, and for half a second, Weiss wonders if she will abandon them all and leave them to fight this thing alone.

Everyone stands away from it, panting breathlessly, weapons drawn but some lowered with exhaustion, and Weiss can see that even Nora is unable to find the energy to lift hers anymore. Her own shoulders drop, arms quivering with fatigue and her fingers ache from where they’re wrapped around Mrytenaster. She coughs again and tastes blood in her mouth and Weiss just wants to lay down and not get back up again.

_It’s hopeless._

_Ruby…_

_I’m sorry._

Her eyes lift instinctively, looking past the drake looming over them all and to the castle in the distance. They had come so close… so close, only to fail at the very end and not even reach it.

_I’m sorry._

She squints when she sees what appears to be a flash of light, rubbing her eyes with her free hand quickly to make sure she is seeing things clearly. She is, and maybe it’s a hallucination, but something is coming from the castle. Something fast, a red star shooting straight in their direction.

Her stomach drops, though whether with delusional hope or overwhelming fear, she can’t quite tell.

She can’t bring anyone’s attention to the shooting star before it’s here, colliding into the back of the drake and tearing through its entire body to the ground beneath. The drake recoils so quickly, Weiss feels a little bitter that whatever this was hurt it more than all of them had. The drake screeches immediately, stepping back and looking below itself to whatever had just wounded it.

And then…

Something happens. (Something always happens.)

Something strange.

Grimm aren’t known to express emotions- just bloodlust and fury and wildness.

But _fear_. That is not an emotion Grimm show.

Yet, here it is. The red in its eyes fade to a glimmering yellow before it lets out another screech, an entirely terrified one, turning suddenly and digging into the ground. The resulting earthquake makes all of them lose their balance, Weiss catching herself on her knees and coughing against the rising dust that floats through the air. She doesn’t know whether she’s disappointed they didn’t get to kill the drake or relieved that it was gone now.

She shields her face from the floating dust and dirt, waving it away and coughing, before looking ahead.

There’s a shape in the resulting smoke cloud. And though it is infinitely, _infinitely_ smaller than the drake was, something about it sends a chill down her spine, dread eating at her heart. Whatever was here now was no doubt even more monstrous than the drake.

Salem’s darkest creation was here.

Things were about to get so, so much worse.

As the smoke clears and the figure comes into view, her heart forgets how to function properly. Her lungs stop breathing and she ceases to exist entirely.

Red fills her vision. A torn cloak billowing in the air. A crimson scythe held aloft and ready.

Red like blood. Dotting paler-than-usual skin in random sprays, dried rust staining temples.

Red like roses. Fluttering slowly from the air, withered and dying, and smothered by ribbons and wisps of unnatural shadows and darkness.

Red like-

“ _Ruby_ …”

Yes.

Salem’s darkest creation was here indeed.

The end is near.


	4. Verse 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, a lot more people are actually giving this a shot than I thought there would be, haha. Thank you everybody for reading! Now, please stand by as I send out all this pain. Incoming! Enjoy :).

**_~:Lose, soon have nothing to:~_ ** ****

_The scent of roses and the rush of wind is Blake’s indicator that she is not going to be able to finish this next chapter in her book._

_With a sigh that holds a hint of moroseness, she places her bookmark in place and lifts her gaze- just in time to be greeted with Ruby’s bright smile and shining silver eyes._

_“Hey, hey Blake,” her leader grins and Blake has to wonder how it’s possible for someone to smile just because. (She wonders if Ruby gets tired of it.) “Are you busy?”_

_Blake takes a moment to blink and compose herself because she wasn’t entirely expecting to be bombarded by so much energy this early in the morning on one of their rare free weekends. (She was used to Yang’s type of energy, and even still, Yang had recently learned to approach her in a much more relaxed manner- much to her appreciation.) She places her book off to the side with a pointed_ thud _\- which Ruby seems to miss or overlook entirely- and shrugs._

_“Not anymore, did you need something?” Blake can’t help the flickers of warmth and amusement, of affection, that blossoms to life in her chest. She didn’t interact with Ruby much, because the younger girl was always off bugging Weiss instead, but that’s not to say she didn’t enjoy their time together. They had a time set for their own where they would peruse the library at Beacon or bookstores in Vale, giving each other recommendations to scope at and read._

_Blake would be lying if she said she didn’t like those days with Ruby._

_“Okay, so, I know we usually go and hang out and read and stuff together,” Ruby starts before suddenly going shy, her energetic bouncing slowing until she swayed in place with her hands not knowing where to go. “But, I was thinking we could do something else instead? I need your help with something.”_

_“That’s fine with me, what did you need?” Blake answers because honestly, a change of pace would be nice._

_“You know when we fought Torchwick and the Paladin?” Just like that, at the mention of battle, Ruby’s energy and enthusiasm seem to return to her and she holds herself with a bit more confidence. At Blake’s hesitant nod, those silver eyes seemed to brighten, “Right, well- ah… That cool slash move thing you did at the missiles.”_

_Blake stifles her laugh when Ruby chops her arms in the air, making her own sound effects along the way._

_“Yes, I think I know what you’re talking about,” Blake smiles and it takes her a moment to realize just how much easier nowadays it is for her to do so. Especially around Ruby and Yang. Maybe it was just them, the energy they gave off that made it so easy to relax and smile (because even Weiss smiled more often with them too). Or maybe, just like she hoped, she was healing._

_“Yeah! I don’t know what it’s called, but it looked so cool and it was so freaking awesome!” Ruby bounces in place again, hands clenching into excited fists._

_Blake hadn’t been expecting that, but it makes her feel proud- if a bit smug. Her smile takes a pleased pull to it and she lets out a satisfied hum. “Well, thanks.”_

_“You welcome! Anyway, uhh,” Ruby flips back to her more shy self and Blake just has to take it in stride at this point. Living this long with them, she was getting used to their mannerisms and tendencies. (She hoped they were getting used to hers as well.) Ruby scratches the back of her head and gives a timid grin, “I was… hoping you could teach me? Or, if it was possible? How do you do it anyway? Did someone teach you? When did you learn how to do it?”_

_“One question at a time, Ruby,” Blake holds out her hand pacifyingly, letting out a huff of merriment and taking a moment to digest her words. Ruby nods in affirmation, rolling back onto her heels and swinging her arms back-and-forth, clapping every now and then. Blake lets out a hum to herself, her thoughts trickling hesitantly to her past. “Well, it’s just… something I learned how to do, I guess. No one taught me, I just sorta started doing it once in a while.”_

_“That’s so cool!” Ruby gasps in awe and Blake chuckles quietly._

_“And, I mean… I can try to teach you?” Blake offers hesitantly, glancing down at her hands and frowning, “No one’s ever asked me to teach them something before, so I’m not sure how successful I’ll be, but_ oof! _”_

_The scent of roses envelops her as Ruby all but tackles her in a hug and Blake can do nothing more but blink in surprise before reaching up to return the embrace from the squealing girl._

_“Thank you, thank you, thank you! Argh, I’m so excited. When can we start, can we start now?” Ruby’s legs kick in the air and Blake has a brief second to wonder if this was the right idea._

_“Sure, let me just get dressed and we can go to one of the training rooms. Okay?”_

_“Sweet!” Ruby mercifully releases her, dancing back and all but running over to the desk to write out a note (for Weiss, most likely, letting her know where she was going to be if they weren’t back by the time the heiress returned from her calls). “I’m so excited, I wanna be able to go_ whoosh _and-”_

_Blake tunes out the rambling girl with a fond look of exasperation, Ruby pretending to swing an invisible weapon in the air and imitating the aura slash she wanted to learn. As she stands up to get her combat gear together, Blake can’t help but wonder if this is how Yang felt all the time._

_Blake was an only child- the closest she ever came to_ siblings _were new recruits in the White Fang._

_But now, with Ruby…_

_She can’t help but feel that_ this _is what having a little sister is like._

_(She’d have to ask Yang later what it felt like to be a big sister.)_

**_…_ **

_“I’m ready to learn, teacher!” Ruby’s cloak swirls behind her as she spins around to face Blake, arms stretched wide to encompass the empty training room they managed to snag before anyone else._

_A few dummies, both human-shaped and some plushy Grimm, lingered on the far end of the room, closest to the wall. One half entirely was devoted to an obstacle course that Blake often frequented herself to work on her acrobatics, rings and hoops hanging from the ceiling, and various other contraptions lining the floor. The other half was padded for sparring or weapons training and it was currently where the two were standing._

_Blake let out another quiet laugh at that, shaking her head with a twitch of her lips, “Please don’t call me that. As I said, I don’t think I’m qualified to be a teacher, but I’ll certainly try.”_

_“Alright, so!” Ruby claps her hands together, “What’s step one?”_

_“Well, uhh,” Blake wrings her hands out for a moment before taking in a deep breath, reaching to her back and drawing Gambol Shroud. “Hold on, just, let me…”_

_She turns away from Ruby, focusing on one of the dummies across the way and forcing herself to relax. She just has to go through the motions is all. Then, she can break it down step by step._

_Twirling her blade in her hand, she pauses for a moment, glancing down at her weapon and back to the dummy, taking in another steadying breath and readying herself. With her cleaver held out in front of her, Blake closes her eyes, darkness beneath her lids for a second before a faint bit of color filters into her line of sight. Her aura, glowing purple and vibrant, crackling in her mind’s eye for a moment._

_As she exhales, she focuses on her aura, moving it from the center of her body, from her heart to her hands, to the weapon held within them. Faintly, she thinks she can hear Ruby letting out an excited gasp, and when her eyes open, her blade is gleaming with white-purple energy. She holds it there for a second, concentrating, before turning her eyes toward the dummy in the distance._

_Moving her grip to one hand, she swings, arcing up from the ground, waiting for the right moment to release her hold on the energy just wanting to escape, and watches as the shockwave soars through the room. It collides right where she wants it to, the dummy standing no chance and ripping open against the force with a muffled explosion. The glow from Gambol flickers away as her aura retreats back to her body, glimmering around her for a moment before relaxing and beginning to recover from that small portion lost._

_When she turns back to face Ruby, her leader is looking with wide, enraptured eyes, hands held to her face, and mouth open in awe. It’s kind of adorable and Blake smiles sheepishly._

_“That!” Ruby points toward the ripped dummy with a finger, “I want to be able to do that!”_

_“It’ll take a while,” Blake wanders back to her, Gambol Shroud held aloft in one hand and she can’t help but glance down at it with a hint of pride. “It took me a few months to get it right.”_

_“Well, we have plenty of time,” Ruby claps her hands together and stands to attention, “Now, what’s step one?”_

_“Step one is drawing your weapon,” Blake motions with her free hand to where the scythe is slung on Ruby’s back._

_Ruby draws it with a flourish and ease that came with practice. “Easy.”_

_Blake didn’t know training someone could be so amusing. She huffs out a laugh before looking back at her own weapon, pausing for a moment and scratching her head. She… actually didn’t know how to explain it. It was sort of a natural thing she did, one thing leading into the other so quickly she never really questioned it._

_“Hey,” Ruby’s voice takes a softer turn, drawing her attention, and though Ruby’s smile remains, it’s tempered with encouragement. “It’s okay. Take your time, no rush.”_

_“I’m sorry,” Blake grimaces, guilt leaking into her features “I’m not a very good teacher. I don’t know how to explain things.”_

_“Just, I dunno, tell me how it feels?”_

_“How it feels…” she glances down to Gambol Shroud again, seeing her reflection in the black metal. “Since it’s your aura, you have to learn how to… Channel it? That’s the right way to say it.”_

_“Channel it.”_

_“Like,” Blake huffs, a little frustrated, before shaking her head and walking closer, reaching out and tapping over Ruby’s heart. “Your aura is centered here, yes? Well, you_ want _it to go elsewhere, so you have to direct it. To here,” she tapped Ruby’s hand, “and once it’s there, it_ should _also spill into whatever it is you’re holding.”_

_“So, you can do it with anything? Not just your weapon?”_

_“Well, I tried it with a cup before, pooling my aura into it,” Blake chuckles, “The glass exploded in my hand. Your weapon is designed to be a lot sturdier than that- and since you made it… Well, it’s more… Intimate, I guess, is the word I’m looking for. You built it, so it’s yours, it has a piece of you already.”_

_“Yeah, I think I remember Uncle Qrow telling me about that,” Ruby nods to herself, glancing down at Crescent Rose with a proud look on her face. “He says that even though it’s never been proven true in an actual study, the weapons made by a huntsman or huntress is a lot- well, he used the word_ better _, than compared to a weapon that is passed down.”_

_“He might not be far from the truth,” Blake murmurs, mostly to herself, before shaking her head and focusing again. “Okay, well. I guess the easiest way to start this is learning how to move your aura to specific parts of your body. Your semblance and mine are similar in the way that it encompasses all of us- not just a single part. So, it’s actually more difficult for people like us to do it. Don’t be so disheartened if you can’t do it on your first try.”_

_“Okay,” Ruby glances down to her weapon, brows furrowing in concentration and fingers gripping tighter around the spine. Blake stands there and watches, ears flicking in her bow when a spark of red crackles over Ruby’s body. It remains there, shining brightly for a moment, and Blake thinks she can see it moving- but it’s slow. Like moving through a river of molasses, the aura refusing to shift positions like it was told to do, and in the next second, Ruby exhales heavily, exhaustion leaking into her features already, and the red vanishes. A shaky smile pulls at the younger girl’s lips, “Wow, that’s tiring.”_

_“Yeah,” Blake chuckles gently, encouragingly, before motioning down to the ground with one hand, “Why don’t we sit? It’s a little easier if you don’t have to focus on maintaining your balance either.”_

_“Yeah… Yeah, that’s probably smart, that made me a little lightheaded,” Ruby admits with a sheepish grin, moving one of her hands to rub at her forehead before she shifts to sit, placing Crescent Rose flat against her lap and keeping one hand curled around the weapon. Blake joins her, crossing her legs and placing her own blade on her lap, fingers gently brushing the grip._

_“I spent a lot of time meditating,” Blake spoke hesitantly- because even though she wants to help Ruby do this, she truly does, this was hitting close to home. Well, not_ home _, but to a place she didn’t want to visit from her past. She was scared to talk about it, because if she talked about it, then Adam’s image hovering over her would come to life, and sooner or later he would find her again. Shaking her thoughts away, Blake turns her focus up to Ruby. (Ruby, who normally never truly paid attention to their lectures in class, stares back at her with full attention.) “Just going through my breathing and I mean, it does sound cliche but it works. Focus on your inhales and your exhales, and then your aura.”_

 _Ruby nods a little before her eyes fall shut, settling down even more into her seat and her shoulders drop with her long exhale. Blake sighs, ears twitching to fall flat. Honestly, she felt a little useless. There really wasn’t a way for her to_ show _Ruby what she was talking about- because this was all internal. She just had to guide her with words, and truth be told, she felt like she wasn’t very good at it._

_Red sparks to life once more and Blake mentally cheers Ruby on in her head. Gentle crimson outlining her body, pulsing in sync with Ruby’s heartbeat: one-two, one-two, one-two. Once more, it began to shift and shimmer, moving at a snail’s pace in the direction of her hands. (Blake remembers just how frustrating it had been at first, having her aura disobey her so. She didn’t know what kept her going back then.)_

_The red reached down, shining brighter by Ruby’s wrists, before vanishing yet again, crackling in disagreement and fading away with the girl’s heavy breath. Ruby slumps a bit in her seat and Blake reaches forward with one hand to press against her knee supportively. Silver eyes re-opened, a bit frustrated and despondent but still brimming with determination._

_“You’re getting there,” Blake murmurs, hoping she came off as encouraging, and Ruby just gave a tight smile in response. “I’m just sorry I’m a bad teacher.”_

_“No, no, no,” Ruby reaches over with her free hand as well, patting over Blake’s hand reassuringly. “You said it yourself, this is difficult and will most likely take a long time. We just gotta… be patient, is all.”_

_“Right,” Blake smiles in appreciation, guilt pushed back to the pit of her stomach where it could sit there and rot away. She leans back again, sitting straight, and nods down to Crescent Rose. “Try one more time.”_

_Ruby lets out a whiny groan and Blake can’t help but laugh._

_“Come on, what have you got to lose?” She chuckles, fondness seeping into her skin like the rays of the sun and she felt warm. (She really thinks this is what having a little sister feels like- wishing for their accomplishment.)_

_“My energy,” Ruby grumbles but closes her eyes again anyway, acquiescing. Her shoulders were slouched for a few seconds longer before she took in a deep breath, sitting straighter and lifting her head. Blake nods to herself, satisfied, before closing her eyes too._

_Purple glimmers to life within seconds, leaving no trace of darkness there, and it’s comforting. She has never thought much of her aura before- held a sense of respect for it, of course, because being a huntress required it and whatnot- but recently, she’s quite liking its color. It reminds her of something else…_

Someone _else…_

_Yang’s face flashes across her vision and it startles her to attention, the image fading as her eyes shoot open, ears perking at hearing the sharp inhale from the girl across from her. Once more, red is there, flickering and dimmer than before from repeated use, but it’s right where she wants it to be. Gathering at Ruby’s hands for a second, smidgens of it leak into the shaft of Crescent Rose, crackling across the spine like lightning- but before it could even reach the blade at the end, it vanishes and Ruby withdraws her hands as if touching her weapon burns her._

_“Ach!” Ruby brings her hands to her chest, rubbing her thumb against the palm of the other and grimacing slightly. “Wasn’t expecting that, that stings.”_

_“You were doing it though,” Blake can’t help the grin that pulls at her lips then, excited for Ruby and it was such a strange thing- being excited for someone else. Sincerely, truly happy for someone else. “That’s impressive.”_

_“That took a lot out of me,” Ruby’s words are broken with her yawn as she continues to speak through it anyway, words muffled and difficult to understand but Blake can get the gist of it, “I could go for a nap now.”_

_“It gets easier,” Blake reassures her, “Eventually. It’s actually not using a lot of your aura, and you can learn to measure it so you don’t overfill the blade- that’ll damage it. The hardest part is moving your aura, but when that becomes easy, the hardest part then is holding your aura there, long enough for you to attack at least.”_

_“You do it so easy. It doesn’t even look like it takes anything out of you.”_

_“It does,” Blake raises her weapon with one hand, turning it this way and that. “I’ve just had a lot more time to get used to it. Don’t worry, you’ll get there soon if you keep practicing.”_

_“See,” Ruby grins at her, as weak and tired as she looked now. “You_ are _a good teacher.”_

_“I’m really not,” Blake wrinkles her nose but smiles anyway, “but thanks.”_

_Carefully, she moves to stand up, placing Gambol Shroud across her back and extending a hand down to help Ruby up as well. Ruby’s hands are warm, warmer than usual- as if she has just touched a burning iron and her skin is still stinging from it. Blake glances down at one of her palms, frowning at the strip of aggravated red there._

_“You want to control your aura so it doesn’t do that again,” Blake taps just above the red line before releasing Ruby’s hand. “It’s strange. You want your aura to move, yes, but you also want to restrain it from moving too quickly.”_

_“I feel like I should be taking notes,” Ruby runs her hand through her hair with a grimace and Blake’s lips pull back in amusement._

_“If it helps,” Blake shrugs, “It’s just all about control.”_

_“Control, got it.” Her leader nods firmly before collapsing her weapon, placing it to the small of her back again and letting out another heavy sigh, stretching her arms high above her head with a groan. “It’s funny. We didn’t really do much, but I already feel sore.”_

_“It takes a lot out of you, you’ll get used to it.”_

_“Hopefully,” Ruby grimaces again before sending a grateful smile to Blake. “Thanks, Blake. You didn’t have to do this.”_

_“It’s no issue. I’m actually looking forward to more,” Blake admits shyly, “As I said, no one’s ever asked me to train them with anything before because they thought I did something cool.”_

_“But you_ are _cool! You’re like, the coolest person I know!”_

_“Cooler than Yang?” Blake teases with a raise of her brow._

_“Don’t tell her I said that,” Ruby presses her hands together as if begging, eyes rounding just the slightest bit, and Blake snickers. “She’ll tickle me to death.”_

_“Your secret is safe with me,” she raises one hand as if making a solemn oath._

_She wonders how it’s so easy to tease and be playful with other people. She quite likes it._

_She hopes there will be many more days like this to come._

_“Now, come on. I know someone can use a nap, and I’d like to get back to my book before Yang pulls me into her shenanigans.”_

_“Aye, aye, teacher.”_

_“Please, don’t call me that.”_

_Ruby laughs, trailing behind her, and Blake hides her grin as she leads the way out of the room and back toward their dorm. Though Ruby is less energetic than her earlier rambling on the way here, evidently drained from the whole experience, she still babbles on about nonsense that Blake only half listens to with fondness._

_Yes._

_She never knew what it was like to have a little sister, but this is the closest she will get to one._

_She likes it._

**_…_ **

Blake…

Blake can’t breathe.

She can’t speak.

She can’t do anything.

Shock and despair and joy and hope and misery clash into one another within her body in a devastating battle of destruction, rendering her useless and immobile, the sound of the world fading away to illusory imagination. It wasn’t real.

Nothing felt real.

This wasn’t real- because there was no way in this world that Ruby was…

That Ruby…

Ruby is alive.

She’s standing right there, across from them.

 _Facing_ them.

She’s alive, but she’s also…

Not.

This _isn’t_ Ruby. Not their Ruby, at least. Their Ruby was full of bright smiles and glistening silver eyes and care and love and hope and determination. She protects people, she fights for the ones she cares about. 

She doesn’t…

She doesn’t look like _this_.

Blake’s vision blurs but she doesn’t even bother to stop or wipe away the tears that immediately begin to fall at the sight before her. Ruby- with skin paler than it usually was, unhealthily so. Veins prominent against her face, bulging against her skin, down her neck, disappearing into her clothing. Cloak tattered and ruined, clothes ripped and spattered and stained with blood, eyes…

Eyes of black and red-

Just like the Grimm.

Of all the emotions, conflicting or not that tear Blake apart, the one that eats her alive is pure, raw _guilt_ . Guilt, because she couldn’t find _anything_ for half a year, and now Ruby…

Ruby was like _this_. Like this, because _she_ couldn’t find anything, so _they_ couldn’t come and save her.

Her stomach coils into itself and Blake feels like throwing up, anything to make this guilt dispel from her body. It was her fault. She took so long, _found nothing_ , and left Ruby to suffer all alone. All alone in this place, with that devil, left to be corrupted and turned into _this_.

She wishes this is a dream.

(She knows it isn’t.)

Gambol Shroud almost slips from her grip, somehow staying in her hands by some form of miracle or maybe it’s survival instincts at this point making her keep her weapon instead of dropping it. 

If only she had found something sooner.

If only she had kept everything together better.

She had tried, _fuck she tried so hard_ , but it wasn’t enough. If she had pulled Yang and Weiss from their despair, maybe that was time she could’ve spent looking instead of taking care of them. If she had forced Ironwood or Oscar or Ozpin or whoever the hell else to _help_ , maybe they could’ve found something sooner. If she had tried harder, if she had _fucking tried harder_ -

_If, if, if._

Without her knowing, Blake’s eyes drift down to Ruby’s prized and beloved weapon. The crimson scythe, looking as worn as its master, held aloft and at the ready. Like…

Like Ruby was prepared to charge, like she was about to slash at all three of them.

It takes a lot longer than it should- in hindsight- for Blake to fully realize the bigger picture. Ruby, staring at them, _glaring_ at them, with such vitriolic and violent _hate_ in her eyes. Body slightly hunched, legs positioned to sprint to them, the blade of the scythe held to the side and slightly back.

Ruby doesn’t look happy to see them, not in the slightest.

Pale fingers, veins visible on them too, clench a white-knuckled grip around the spine of her weapon like she was trying to break it in half with her hold alone. Blake lets out a shuddering breath, trembles rattling down her spine and bashing against her bones.

For a second, she thinks she can see Ruby’s aura sparking to life, fluttering and weak and not completely a gentle crimson like before. It’s darker, worn-out, and stained with black in most places.

It moves quickly, far too quickly, from the outline of her leader- her _friend’s_ body to her hands and Blake has a sense of deja vu and terrible dread and she knows what’s happening, what Ruby’s trying to do.

What Ruby had failed to do so long ago-

She succeeds now.

The sharp, curved steel of the scythe crackles with energy, like lightning bolts and electricity, before emitting an ominous, red glow. It shines scarlet, a darker color than the spray-painted metal holding it in place, and Blake can just barely see the held aura sizzling in complaint, wanting release, fizzing like a broken electronic.

Blake… has the terrible sensation that… Maybe, just maybe-

Ruby wasn’t going to attack the Grimm.

She wasn’t here to help them. She wasn’t here to go with them

Ruby was intending to _f_ _ight_ them.

And Blake…

Blake didn’t want to. (She finds it hilarious- how they’ve come so far to rescue Ruby, coming across obstacle after obstacle in the form of monstrous Grimm none of them have seen before… only for _R_ _uby_ herself to be their final opponent.)

Regret robs her of her air and she almost wishes that she’d pass out now. Maybe if she was unconscious, she’d finally wake up from this horrible, cruel nightmare.

She blinks and her tears are hot as they trail down her cheeks, but she’s not falling asleep. She’s not waking up either.

Blake swallows thickly, past the choking emotions, and accepts how cruel faith was to them.

Her grip tightens on the two halves of Gambol Shroud, her gaze flicking down for a second to the black metal to see her reflection. She looks horrible. Sweat and grime and blood and tears and scars mar her features, but none of that looked as terrible as the guilt and the heartbreak and the unsaid apologies shining in golden eyes.

Blake resigns herself to fate. Because there’s nothing else she can do. It’s that or give up and though the latter is much more tempting- she can’t. She _can’t_. Not now. Not ever.

Awful, _cruel_ fate.

She readies her blades and slowly, reluctantly, brings her eyes back up to Ruby’s. (Eyes that don’t belong to Ruby.)

With terrible emotions sitting heavily on her chest…

She breathes,

And waits.

**_…_ **

**_~:Space, this is what I choose:~_ **

_“For the millionth time, Yang, I’m fine!”_

_“Yeah, you sure looked fine when you almost got_ impaled, _Ruby!”_

_“I was fine!”_

_“So you’ve said.”_

_This sight was an unfamiliar one to their audience, but Yang’s attention was focused only on her knuckle-headed sister and not their two shocked- and nervous- partners. She had managed to keep herself contained on the way back from the forest, through the debriefing of their clean-up mission to Professor Goodwitch, and now in the sanctity of their dorm room, Yang couldn’t control it any longer._

_The sight of Ruby, her dearest little sister who she vowed to protect above all else, being rammed by the horns of the giant deer Grimm they ran across and thrown into the lake plays on a morbid repeat in her mind and it’s beginning to drive Yang a little crazy. The massive antlers of the hooved creature, which had spanned devastatingly wide and tipped with a sharpness that could cut through steel, had caught her sister in a moment of distraction, cloak ripping easily in places and cuts opening on her body._

_Is it so wrong of Yang to be angry at her?_

_“You can’t just charge in like that again,” Yang’s fingers clenched tightly where her arms are crossed, hiding the way her hands were shaking (both from exhaustion, because the actual fight had been quite taxing, and from nerves of seeing Ruby tackled like that, of hearing her sister’s cry of pain and shock). She gives a stern shake of her head, jaw clenching. “You’re supposed to be our leader and you can’t do that when you’re blazing ahead and leaving us behind just expecting us to follow!”_

_Ruby recoils at her words, the tone of her voice, and Yang almost feels bad. But not quite, because she needs- she_ needs _Ruby to understand that she can’t stand seeing her hurt like that again. A part of her wails, dies, deep inside her heart as she toes the line of protective big sister and the person who raised this girl before her. (Yang often had trouble differentiating between sister and mother duties, even though a lot of them were one and the same to her now.)_

_“I’m supposed to protect you, Ruby- dad told me to protect you, and I can’t do that when you go and do stupid things like that.”_

_It’s, apparently, the wrong thing to say. Ruby, who was always so quick to back down and apologize, stiffens where she stands across from Yang, silver eyes flashing like the steel of a thousand blades. Her eyes widen a bit before she bares her teeth and Yang has to prepare herself for a fight._

_“I’m not a little kid, Yang!” Ruby barks, entire body clenching, refraining from charging up to Yang or running away, but Yang can only see the way her sister winces- a stray hand absentmindedly dabbing at her side where bandages lay hidden beneath her clothes. “I know what I was doing, I had it handled.”_

_“Oh, so it was your_ plan _to get hit and tossed into the lake? My bad, then. You know, next time, let us in on it, yeah?”_

_Too much, too much; there’s too much sting in her words and Yang tries to rein herself in, her temper flaring to life and her semblance sizzling just beneath her skin. She thinks she fails to keep her eyes from changing to their burning red._

_“I. Was. Fine.” It’s Ruby’s turn to speak through gritted teeth, and just as Yang is about to open her mouth and reiterate her point, her sister isn’t quite done yet. Balling her hands into fists, Ruby takes one step forward, her hand sweeping out in front of her and cutting through the air the way her next words cut into Yang’s very soul;_

_“I’m not a baby anymore. I don’t need you protecting me!”_

_Yang flinches, the gasp catching in her throat, choking her, and it should be enough to stop her. This wasn’t what she wanted, she didn’t want to argue with Ruby. Yang just wanted her to know just how worried she was, to warn her to be a little more cautious next time._

_But Yang spent her entire life being beaten by the world, all for Ruby’s sake, and she only knows how to fight back when being hurt._

_So, trying her best to catch her temper before it could escape and failing, it slips through her fingers like smoke and fire, Yang’s arms drop to her sides and she snaps._

_“Obviously you do because you were acting like a reckless_ idiot _out there!”_

_Hurt flashes across Ruby’s eyes for a second, so quick it vanishes as soon as it appears, but just like Yang- Yang raised her after all- once a fight started and Ruby was dead set on winning, she would not back down._

_And were they alone, Yang had little to no doubt that this argument would only escalate further and further until both of them dug enough wounds into each other’s souls to make them crumble and fall (for all the love they had for each other, they also equally had the power to tear each other apart). Yang would say one thing and Ruby would say another and there would be no end to this devastating destruction._

_But they weren’t alone._

_Black and white move out of the corner of her eyes and the distraction is enough to draw her attention, on-edge and teeth gritted and muscles clenched. Weiss and Blake move with incredible caution and Yang almost feels bad for them- the way they look so nervous and not entirely sure how to handle this._

_Weiss reaches her partner first- Ruby still looking at Yang- but a touch to her shoulder makes Ruby’s entire demeanor soften. Silver eyes turn to the heiress, a frown crossing her features, and they don’t speak with words so much as they speak with their eyes instead. Silent communication that nobody knew the language of but them._

_“How about you two give each other some space for the day?” Weiss turns blue eyes to her then, Ruby’s shoulders sagging and her head dropping a bit and Yang- angry or not- can’t help but worry over how tired her sister looks. Weiss keeps her hand on Ruby’s shoulders, positioned in such a way as if to defend her, and Yang almost wants to be angry at that too._

_(She wants to say that she will never hurt Ruby… But… Well._

_She just did, technically.)_

_So, Yang turns away as her response, eyes lingering on Ruby for a moment longer before tearing away. She wanders over to the desk beside the window, leaning her hands flat against it and releasing a heavy, rolling sigh. A bit of steam escapes her mouth and she only now realizes the lingering heat in her body, the embers that fleck at the tips of her hair._

_Weiss whispers something to Ruby before their shuffling feet leave the room, the door opening and closing, and Yang bites back the panic that rises like bile in her throat. (Ruby wasn’t leaving her, just taking a walk. She’ll come back later. She wasn’t leaving, she wasn’t leaving, she wasn’t leaving.)_

_Her chest aches and the pain is almost equal to the soreness in her body, the torture of seeing the image of Ruby being attacked by the giant deer playing over and over and over in her head. Her fingers dig into the wood of the desk and Yang squeezes her eyes shut, swallowing down the bad emotions and wishing for it to go away. (They never did.)_

_It’s becoming almost too much for her to bear, the pain in her chest. The panic of thinking Ruby was going to leave because of her and not return. (It was always her fault- it was always her fault people left. Her fault, her fault, her-)_

_Tentative fingers press into the middle of her back and Yang gasps, body stiffening for a moment. The hand is gentle, palm pressing against her spine in a calming touch and Yang doesn’t know why she suddenly feels like sobbing. All of her anger and fear and panic boils inside of her and she just wants to collapse into a puddle of limbs._

_Blake doesn’t say anything, just remains at her back, hand rubbing slightly against the curve of her spine and Yang tries not to think about how good it feels. Tries not to question when was the last time someone comforted_ her _, the last time she allowed herself to be vulnerable for anyone._

 _“I’m sorry,” Yang murmurs to the open air; so low that if Blake wasn’t a Faunus, she probably wouldn’t have heard her._ Guilt _is added to the unpleasant soup of emotions at the pit of her stomach, because even if Blake doesn’t say it or never told her, Yang is always watching her and knows just how much Blake doesn’t like it when she yells. Or when anybody yells for that matter, but Yang specifically. (She tries not to analyze that too much, because Blake deserved to have her privacy, and as much as she wants to pick and pry her partner’s mind apart, she can’t.)_

_(She still remembers the look on Blake’s face after the fight with the Paladin and Roman- the fear and the silent admittance that she was, indeed, scared of Yang.)_

_(Nothing has ever hurt quite as much as that.)_

_Blake says nothing, just lets out a quiet hum to affirm that she heard her, and runs her hand up higher once the embers of Yang’s semblance fade and she can touch between Yang’s shoulder blades without being burned. She steps closer, close enough that Yang can just feel her behind her, and she shudders._

_“I just… I worry about her,” Yang admits and she doesn’t know why she feels like she has to defend herself. “What she did today… Seeing that- I can’t...”_

_“I know,” Blake responds after a moment of consideration, leaning closer so Yang could feel her warmth and just barely get the hint of lilac on her tongue. It’s soothing. “I was worried too. We all were.”_

_“I’m supposed to protect her,” Yang’s fingers tighten into fists against the desk, the skin around her knuckles blanching white and hot tears of frustration in her eyes. It doesn’t feel like enough of an explanation, but for her, it’s the only words that make sense as they spill from her throat like secrets given freedom, “I’m supposed to protect her.”_

_Blake remains quiet for a moment longer, thinking to herself, before her words come out hesitantly, “I know this isn’t probably what you want to hear, but… Yang, you can’t protect her from everything.”_

_Her muscles jump and stiffen again and she whirls around to face Blake, mouth opening and ready to snap at her, but she stops. Hesitates. Her partner stands stern, their eyes meeting unflinchingly, steady in a way Yang doesn’t feel right now._ Listen to me _, a gold gaze pleads,_ listen, Yang _._

_“You can’t protect her from everything,” Blake repeats in a softer voice, ears twitching and falling flat atop her head._

_She’s right. Yang doesn’t want to hear those words._

_Because Yang had grown up so quickly_ for _Ruby. And though she’d never blame her sister for that, there will always be the slightest, barest hint of resentment. Or, not resentment entirely, more like… Sorrow. For missing out on her own childhood. For having to take charge and be the adult at such a young age because her sister needed someone and all she had was Yang._

_She had grown up putting Ruby’s wellbeing before her own. Anything Ruby wanted, Yang would do her darndest to get. She vowed to protect Ruby from anything and everything because they both had suffered enough and her sister didn’t deserve that._

_For so long, her role was just to be Ruby’s big sister. The overprotective one keeping her safe from the world._

_And now…_

_She honestly didn’t know what other role she could carry. (She didn’t know what she was good for if she_ wasn’t _the big sister.)_

_She couldn’t protect Ruby from everything, realistically speaking- but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to fucking try. And she had failed today, Ruby was hurt because Yang couldn’t keep up with her._

_“I know,” Yang’s voice comes out in a weak croak and she can’t even fight the emotions that clog at her throat. “But I want to. I can’t lose her, Blake.”_

_“You won’t,” Blake reassures with that calming smile of hers- the smile that does_ things _to Yang- and Yang feels like she can breathe again. “Because it’s not just you protecting her anymore. She has me, and she has Weiss, too.”_

_Yang sniffs and lets out a wet laugh, “Yeah. I have to get used to that.”_

_“You have us too, Yang,” her partner’s hand hesitates before pressing against her arm, squeezing in gentle comfort. “We’re a team. Neither of you are alone, and we can all protect each other. It’s not just you two anymore.”_

_Yang huffs out a chuckle and says nothing else. Right. This included her as well. (She’d have to get used to that too.)_

_“We’re here for you,” Blake adds, pauses for a moment before saying in a quieter voice, a hint of shyness there if Yang was hearing correctly, “_ I’m _here for you, Yang.”_

_“Thank you,” Yang whispers in something like awe because it feels like she was just given the whole world and she is only half-aware of it all._

_“Of course,” Blake nods, “Just hear each other out. I’m sure there’s a reason Ruby reacted that way. But, you know, later- when Weiss and her come back.”_

_Yang sighs tiredly, nodding, and she can’t help but lean against the desk behind her. (Weiss would kill her if she found out she was doing that, but haha Weiss wasn’t here right now so…) Her eyes close and though the guilt and anger and sadness and panic don’t entirely leave, they stop festering so much and she doesn’t feel entirely sick anymore. She’s exhausted, because the fight hasn't been exactly easy, and all she wants to do is climb up to her bunk and sleep._

_She wasn’t allowed to sleep until she resolved this, though, so instead, Yang forces her eyes open again and turns her head to Ruby’s bunk. Her sister’s red cloak remains hanging there because, before Yang had exploded on her, she had been just about to rest her wounds away. Yang frowns._

_The cloak looks a little more worn-out than before coming to Beacon, a little frayed at the edges from all of their training, and there is an obvious tear where the deer’s antlers had ripped into her from behind. Yang can’t remember the last time she sat down to polish it up a bit, and that thought alone has her moving toward it._

_Blake steps aside, watching her quietly as Yang approaches the hanging cloak. Yang hesitates for a moment and she doesn’t entirely know why. (For half a second, she blinks and the cloak shifts from red to white and her fingers shake.) She shakes away the image before gingerly grabbing it, holding it like it was the most valuable treasure in the world- because, in some ways, it was- and turns back around._

_Her partner offers her bed for Yang to sit on to work and Yang gives a grateful smile in response because if she went to her own bed now, she’d fall asleep and she can’t. Not until she resolves this. Not until she fixes the cloak her sister valued so._

_She digs through the mostly emptied bag she had brought from home, the contents of it all laid out in the room around them and finding sanctuary in her closet and living space, and reaches an almost entirely forgotten sewing kit. Filled primarily with red thread, just for Ruby’s cloak._

_Yang lays out the contents before her and gets started on her work, falling into quiet and meticulous movements. It’s comforting and terribly familiar. As she pulls the thread through the cloak, stitching it back together, the ache in her chest tightens and she has to clench her jaw to keep from crying out. When they were younger and Ruby had first asked for the cloak, Yang could remember the countless sleepless nights she spent working on it- replicating the image of a white cloak that haunted her dreams, always too far for her to reach._

_The look on Ruby’s face when Yang had presented it to her… It brings a smile to her face remembering it. Wistful and sad._

_Yes. She was Ruby’s big sister, no matter what. (And even if Ruby didn’t want her anymore, she’d protect her from afar if she had to.)_

_Blake sits beside her silently, careful not to sit on the cloak and she stretches it wordlessly across her lap, pulling the book from her little nightstand to read. Yang chances a glance at her, movements pausing for a moment, and the hurt settles a bit. She was honestly a little surprised Blake stayed._

_Perhaps it was only guilt that made her stay, because ever since the night they fought Roman and the Paladin and Yang revealed her semblance for what felt like the first time ever in an actual fight since moving to Beacon, ever since Yang found out that it apparently scared Blake, her partner had gone out of her way to prove her otherwise. Always pressing closer to her, remaining in her vicinity, talking with her and meeting her eyes, and_ staying _instead of running when something happened to tick her off. Yang, in turn, had learned to be more careful with herself and her own emotions._

_She apparently hadn’t done a very good job, considering she just yelled at Ruby, but she was barely starting to learn, so she thinks it’s a start._

_(There’s also the strange but_ warming _thought that after every fight together, Blake always quietly pulled her aside to help with her bruises. During fights, Blake would do her best to direct unnecessary damage away from Yang so Yang wouldn’t be hurt too badly. And it was strange, for someone to_ know _about what she had hidden for so long, and a part of her felt indignant for being treated so tenderly- because she was supposed to be the strong one- but with Blake, she never felt weak._

_If Yang said she was fine, Blake wouldn’t push.)_

_Blake’s eyes lift after a moment and it takes Yang entirely too long to realize that she had been staring, but her partner says nothing and there’s a twitch of a smile to her lips before she goes back to reading. (Yang feels her heart flutter and she has to turn away before she blushes.) Her hands move meticulously and the minutes stretch on and on._

_When she’s done patching up the cloak, her fingers ache a bit (and she may have accidentally stabbed them a bit because she’s apparently out of practice) but she feels satisfied. She puts the sewing kit away and walks back over to where the cloak had been hanging before, hesitating from putting it back on right away; and instead, she pulls out her scroll and sends a message to Weiss, asking where they were._

_She’s incredibly surprised when Weiss actually tells her. Yang stands in the middle of the room for a much too long moment of hesitation, the cloak in her arms and her scroll in her hand, and she takes in a deep breath to prepare herself._

_“I’m gonna go find them,” Yang says over her shoulder, glancing at Blake. Her partner looks up at her, book lowering for a moment, and there’s a thoughtful and calculating expression that crosses over her face. Yang tenses a little, because- if only for a second- Blake looks like she’s considering stopping her. (Yang doesn’t know if she’d force her way past Blake too and she doesn’t entirely want to find out now.)_

_But, eventually, Blake must find what she’s looking for in her gaze, because she sends another small smile and simply says, “Okay,” before going back to her book. Yang lets out a little breath of relief, an appreciative curl to her lips before she leaves the room._

_Through the hallways of Beacon, she wanders, bypassing fellow students and skirting around people eager to hear about her team’s adventure in the forest and what Grimm they fought. None of them are important, and though she puts on a show and dons that charming grin she was known for, promising to tell them later, Yang quickens her pace to the hills where Weiss said they were last at._

_She squints against the sunlight, head constantly turning this way and that and eyes searching endlessly. Eventually, as luck would have it, she does find them. One of the hills that had a single tree- Ruby had dubbed it_ their _hill. She spots Weiss first because Weiss is easy to find._

_Yang stands at the end of the hill, suddenly hesitant and nervous, and her fingers clench around the cloak in her hand. It takes a few minutes longer before Weiss notices her, sitting beside Ruby- on the grass, surprisingly- and the heiress leans over to say something to her sister. She guesses it’s some kind of question because Ruby- though stiff in the shoulders- nods her head and murmurs something just as quietly back._

_Weiss sighs, rubbing a hand against Ruby’s back and giving a squeeze to her shoulder before she’s standing up, dusting off any loose pieces of grass or dirt, and turning right in Yang’s direction. When she starts walking, Yang tenses even more and she doesn’t entirely know why._

_Weiss looks… appropriately angry at her. (Honestly, she’s angry at herself too.)_

_(_ That’s _also a strange thing. Someone else being so protective of her sister. Yang struggles to understand it, struggles to come to terms that there was indeed going to be other people like that.)_

_Light blue eyes look like two specks of chilling ice and Yang has to swallow thickly; and though Weiss is a whole lot shorter than she is, Yang feels the innate desire to cower. She lowers her head a bit, shoulders dropping even though her arms remain stiff and Weiss stops in front of her for a moment. She prepares for whatever Ruby’s partner has to say to her._

_“I hope you’re here to fix this and not just yell again.” Weiss stands poise and proper as usual, stiff in the shoulders and it looks like she can’t decide whether to chase Yang away or let her through. Yang grimaces slightly, indignance rising within her chest that she quickly tampers down because Weiss was right._

_“I am… Going to fix this,” Yang clarifies and she can’t help but question where all of her bravery and confidence have gone in the face of one Weiss Schnee. She was always pushing Weiss’s buttons, unafraid by that icy, bone-chilling glare of hers. Because she was fire and Weiss was ice- fire was not scared of ice. Usually. (Weiss was really scary sometimes though.)_

_“Good,” Weiss’s voice is sharp for a moment before her features suddenly soften a bit. Not completely, just around the edges. There’s a secret hidden in her eyes and Yang makes a mental note to ask about it later. “Please make this better. I… don’t like seeing you two fight.”_

_“I will,” Yang vows immediately, “I promise.”_

_Weiss nods and hesitates for a second longer, glancing partially over her shoulder to where Ruby sits motionless on the hill and lets out a quiet sigh before finally stepping around Yang. When she’s beside her, Weiss speaks without looking at her, “We’ll see you two later?”_

_“Probably for dinner,” Yang murmurs before frowning, “if this works.”_

_“...We’ll see you at dinner then,” Weiss says and her voice leaves no room for argument. Weiss, in her own way, basically just told her “you_ are _fixing this. There is no try.”_

_Yang chuckles to herself, watching for a moment over her shoulder as Weiss walks away with that pace of hers- like she knows exactly where she’s going and what she wants. Determined and unwavering. Yang sighs._

_And turns her eyes up to the hill. Ruby hasn’t moved from her spot, legs drawn up as she hugged her knees, chin resting against her perch and staring off into the distance._

_(She looks so small. Fragile, and for a second, the image of the fight against the Grimm flashes across her mind again and Yang strangles on her next breath for that amount of time.)_

_It was now or never. Yang takes in a deep breath before walking up the hill, fingers holding the cloak in a white-knuckle grip and the closer she approaches, the more hesitant she becomes, and her mind races even though she already knows what she wants to say._

_Alas, she stands over her sister, right beside her, and still, Ruby doesn’t move. Her posture stiffens a bit, perhaps predicting and ready for Yang to yell again, and it only makes Yang feel all the more heartbroken._

_Calmly, she unfolds the cloak in her arms, clutching the corners of it, and placing it over Ruby’s shoulders in a flourish. Ruby herself would have to clip it together, but Yang fixes it into place so it wouldn’t immediately fall off before moving to sit beside her sister._

_The grass is cool beneath her and prickly. She stretches one leg out in front of her, bending the other and placing one arm over it. Her other hand absentmindedly runs against the ground, playing with the strands of grass to distract herself from the tension between them._

_“Thanks,” Ruby, shockingly, is the first to speak and Yang glances over at her in partial surprise. Her sister pulls the cloak closer to herself, clipping it into place and hugging herself, tugging it around her form. She still doesn’t look to Yang as she adds, “For fixing it.”_

_“Of course,” Yang responds without missing a beat, a nervous and tender curl to her lips. “It was showing a bit of wear, you could’ve come to me sooner to patch it up a bit.”_

_Ruby remains quiet, inhaling and exhaling slowly for a beat, before mumbling beneath her breath, “I didn’t wanna bother you.”_

_Yang recoils slightly, brows furrowing and she turns to better face her sister._

_“Bother me? Ruby, you could never.”_

_“Yeah, well, you have your own friends and stuff to be with. I should learn how to fix it myself.”_

_“Ruby…”_

_“I meant it, Yang,” silver eyes turn to purple, a glint of unmoving steel within them, and Yang holds her breath. Ruby doesn’t yell, but her words are just as powerful. “I’m not a little kid anymore. I’m a huntress-in-training. I’m a_ leader _of my own team. I can’t… I can’t keep relying on you all the time. I need to learn how to do things on my own, I need to_ experience _things on my own. And… And you need to let me make those mistakes, so I can learn.”_

_They’re both looking at each other now and Yang feels the sharp pain in her chest stab ever deeper. It feels akin to panic, and in some ways, it does feel like she’s losing her sister. But…_

_She smiles._

_“So what you’re saying is… you’re growing up.” And through the pain and the raging blaze of panic, Yang feels… pride. A sliver of it, not enough to completely shine free and true, but still there._

_“I mean, yeah,” Ruby shrugs, a casual thing that Yang can’t help but feel a little offended about. Matters like these shouldn’t be taken so casually. They should only be treated with the utmost importance. “Everyone grows up, right? It’s time that I start spreading my wings and learning how to fly without you carrying me everywhere.”_

_“I just don't want you to fall,” Yang explains because they were being honest here. It was the most honest she had ever seen Ruby be about emotions (usually, Ruby just pushed them aside and carried on). “I don’t want you to get hurt. Not physically or mentally or any other way.”_

_“Yang…” Ruby lets out a quiet laugh, grateful and amused all in one and she shifts around to better face her sister. There’s a smile on her face, but it’s not like her usual Ruby smiles. It’s… a little sad. A little resigned. “I’m_ going _to get hurt. That’s just the way things are. It’s life. You can’t keep me from getting hurt just as much as I can’t myself.”_

 _“I can’t lose you, Ruby,” Yang’s voice hitches but she pushes through and she_ hates _the understanding and acceptance in Ruby’s eyes. Her sister’s features soften and there’s a hint of tears in there somewhere. Yang looks away, bringing one hand up quickly to wipe at her eyes before the tears could fall. “Not you.”_

_“...I know…” Her sister whispers with the barest hints of strain in her voice, and a flash appears in her eyes then. Memories and thoughts and dreams and nightmares all rolled into one and Yang knows she’s reflecting the faraway look. (She wonders if they both can see the woman in the white cloak in the distance or if that’s just her that sees it.) “I can’t lose you either, Yang.”_

_“What you did today,” Yang remains staring in the distance, eyes narrowing, squinting,_ hoping _to get a better look at the white cloak. It’s too far away. “You can’t do that again. And I know-” she cuts Ruby off when her sister opens her mouth with a pacifying hand, “I know you need to experience things on your own. But not this, Ruby. It was reckless, even for me. You said you're a leader, and you’re right. You have a_ team _now. Not just me. So… use us. Don’t try to do everything on your own.”_

_Ruby blinks at her, and Yang feels a little better now, feels like she can breathe just the slightest bit. At least Ruby looks like she’s listening, and she doesn’t immediately say anything either to refute her words. A contemplative look crosses her face and Yang lets her have her moment of thought._

_It was a little surreal._

_Ruby was not just her little sister. Yang was not just the big sister._

_Ruby was a leader and Yang was her teammate._

_(She really,_ really _hopes these new labels wouldn’t destroy what they already had.)_

_(She doesn’t know what she’d do if she lost her sister in any way, shape, or form.)_

_“Okay,” Ruby says eventually, her eyes clearing up and she sends another small smile in Yang’s direction. “I won’t do_ that _again. I… need to learn how to best use you guys in combat. I sometimes forget I’m supposed to be telling you what to do.”_

_“Well, that’s what we’re here for,” Yang motions with her hand around them, indicating to the open hills and the buildings in the distance. “To learn. We got four years to get good at this.”_

_“Hopefully more,” Ruby adds in, her features going a little distant and a little softer, “if we all stick together after Beacon.”_

_Yang quite likes the sound of that. She didn’t think… She didn’t think she would ever be ready to say goodbye to Blake, and just the_ thought _of being without her partner now made her heart clench painfully. She winces and hopes Ruby doesn’t notice as she brings her hand to her chest, rubbing the pain away._

_“I can’t speak for our partners,” Yang says, sighing through her teeth before turning her eyes back to her sister. She grins widely and Ruby smiles back in appreciation. “But, just know that you’ll always have me by your side. No matter what.”_

_Ruby’s eyes gleam a little brighter at that and she wipes at her face with her arm before scooting closer, close enough to slip her arm around Yang and Yang mirrors her until they are hugging. Yang presses her nose to Ruby’s hair and closes her eyes, squeezing just a little tighter, just a little more desperate._

_“I can’t lose you, Ruby,” she whispers into her sister’s hair and Ruby squeezes her back just as tightly, “Please be careful next time.”_

_“I will…” Ruby nods minutely against her, “I promise. I’m sorry for worrying you.”_

_“I’m sorry for yelling.”_

_“Sorry about that too,” Ruby murmurs before her voice takes on a lighter tone, “Let’s just agree never to fight again, yeah?”_

_“Alright,” Yang indulges her; even though, realistically, she knew they were bound to fight again at one point in their lives. If they were lucky, they wouldn’t, but knowing them… Still, she jests in return, “But if you steal my food like you always do, we might have problems.”_

_Ruby laughs and so does Yang, playfully poking her in the side before deciding to stand up, dragging her sister up with her by the hand. That was enough emotional interaction and conversations for the rest of the month._

_“Speaking of food, I’m hungry.”_

_“You’re always hungry, Yang.”_

_“Blame my semblance, I burn a lot of energy. Therefore, food.”_

_“You’re just using that as an excuse,” Ruby sticks out her tongue and Yang makes a grab at her- but Ruby is always the faster one and she slips away before she can reach her. She begins skipping down the hill, calling over her shoulder, “Come on slowpoke! I’m hungry too!”_

_“Yeah, what’s your excuse you little glutton?” Yang calls after her, smiling to herself when Ruby’s laugh tinkles in the air and it feels like a victory._

_Yeah._

_They were okay._

_And maybe things were going to completely change after this and Yang had to make many adjustments to fit Ruby’s wishes, but she knows that as long as they stick together…_

_They could do anything._

_Together._

_Ruby and Yang._

_Sisters for life._

**...**

Yang feels numb.

Nothing feels real anymore. Sensation leaves her, and as her eyes land on the one person she’s been searching for this entire time, her spirit leaves her body and she hovers over the battlefield now. Non-corporeal and a specter. Just watching over it all, observing without emotions getting in the way.

There are fifty to seventy feet between them, Ruby standing across from them, _against_ them. Herself and Blake and Weiss stand in a sort of half-circle, Weiss in the center and Blake and her on either side, a few steps ahead. 

Strangely enough, the world stills with them, and Yang thinks that time itself is frozen.

A picture-perfect moment. The Grimm don’t move, still looking as frenzied as ever from whatever the drake’s voice had done but standing there… waiting. Their allies and friends all take that moment to breathe, the dust settling in the air, eyes turning around curiously. Confused, but relieved for the break.

They are the closest to Ruby. She doesn’t think anybody else is capable of seeing them- because it dawns on her that they are essentially blocked off from everybody else by the Grimm.

Her lungs begin to burn, and as she inhales, a fine layer of dust coats her throat and she almost coughs but she doesn’t and lets herself choke on it instead. Her semblance that had been flickering away, turning on and off when she needed it to, and taking a great deal of control that she had trained for, now vanishes and leaves her feeling cold. So cold. Her clenched and ready fists drop until she’s just… standing there.

Shocked. Terrified.

Heartbroken.

Ruby…

Ruby looks _horrible_. And not in the tired or beaten or dirty kind of way, but in the _wrong_ way. She looks wrong, that’s the only word she can use. Pale skin, veins visible, silver eyes gone and replaced with black and red and she looks too much like the Grimm that stand at her back and all around them to be called _Ruby_ anymore.

This isn’t Ruby. 

This _can’t_ be Ruby.

She’s crying without realizing it, tears hot against her cheeks and she still can’t breathe properly.

She thinks she hears a crack in her chest and she wonders if her heart has stopped beating now. (It hasn’t, because obviously she’s still _alive_ and someone couldn’t live without a beating heart, but it doesn’t feel like it’s there anymore. It’s in a million tiny shattered pieces all along the ground and Yang couldn’t even be bothered to pick them up anymore.)

Ruby… Ruby… Ruby…

Her mind can’t wrap around it. Her sister, the one person they’ve been looking for this whole time, the one person they’ve been fighting to get back, is _still gone_ even as she stands right in front of them. That’s _not_ Ruby- it’s just her body, possessed by the darkness of Grimm.

(It feels as though she has just watched Ruby die right in front of her.)

Her eyes drift to the billowing cloak in an absentminded way, searching for _something_ \- some sort of sign that Ruby was still there- and a whimper struggles to escape from her chest and it can’t so it just sits there instead. Ruby was dead- because there’s no way in _hell_ that _Ruby_ would let her cloak get that torn apart. Ruby took better care of it.

Now, it’s dirty and tattered and frayed and beyond repair by this point. (Kind of like Ruby.)

(An image flashes in her mind on her next blink, that of a white cloak, just as tattered and ripped and stained with blood.)

(She blinks again and expects things to get better, but it doesn’t. It doesn’t get better.)

Her entire body feels numb. It’s a slight relief from the burning sensation at her shoulder, the bite the gargoyle had given her still festering, and all of her other wounds of the night. But it’s torture, it’s pure torture.

The pain in her chest only drives ever higher and she just wants it to stop.

Yang failed. She knew she failed when Ruby was taken in the first place, but now? Now, she _failed_.

She was Ruby’s big sister. She was supposed to protect her.

And now…

She can’t even begin to fathom what her sister has gone through this entire time. What Salem did to her to make her look like _that_. The pain must have been overwhelming and the ache in her chest suddenly became detrimental because it was probably _nothing_ compared to what Ruby had gone through.

Heartbreak eats her alive and she feels a part of her die, withering away like the stray and dying rose petals fluttering to the ground, disappearing to ash. Yang feels like she’s floating in the abyss and she doesn’t even fight back as it swallows her whole.

She failed.

They all failed.

And now with Ruby like _this_ , made into what could only be a monster, she didn’t even know if it was possible to bring her back. If Ruby, _their_ Ruby, was even still there in the first place. If she was even still alive.

Yang almost doesn’t want to find out- afraid of what the answer would be.

She’s scared that she might not be strong enough to help. Her aches and pains and exhaustion from the entire night leaves her feeling heavier than normal, the weight of the world on her back and Ruby’s glare making her want to crumble to dust and vanish with the rest of it.

When her eyes focus on the bigger picture, taking in Ruby for all that she was worth, her lungs refused to draw in air at what she sees.

Ruby.

Prepared to charge at them.

 _Them_ , not the surrounding Grimm, but _them._ Blake. Weiss. Yang.

There’s a hate unlike any other in her gaze and Yang thinks that’s what hurts the most in all of this. For Ruby to look at her, to look at them like they were the enemy. With the venom and the anger and the steel she only ever reserved for the creatures of Grimm and Salem.

She was looking at them like she wanted to _kill_ them.

Yang…

Yang has no intention of fighting. Not Ruby. Not her little sister.

(A voice in her head tries telling her that this is _not_ Ruby, _not_ her little sister, and therefore, she _should_ fight.

She ignores it for now.)

So, Yang just stands there. Not readying her gauntlets, not lifting her arms, not prepared to fight or prepared to run or anything else. Staring at Ruby, the one who she can’t fathom the thought of losing. Her little sister. The one she vowed to protect.

Fate was such a cruel, awful thing to them.

It’s knocked her down yet again, and Yang…

Yang was never going to get back up after this.

**_…_ **

**_~:A mile, could you walk in my shoes:~_ **

_Weiss looks in the mirror and hates what she sees._

_She’s in her room- well, her and Yang’s room- at the place they dubbed the “safe house” the morning after everything went down at Haven academy._ Morning _probably wasn’t the right word to use, it was well past noon and everybody was just starting to wake up, sore and tired from barely managing to scrape enough good luck together to achieve victory by the skin of their teeth._

 _Yang had left to give her a moment of privacy, bringing her something_ relaxing _to wear since none of them planned on leaving the safe house today._

_Weiss had showered, and she was just in the process of getting dressed when she made her first mistake by walking past the full-length mirror off to the side. She had paused in drying her hair, holding the towel still and in only her bra and the sweats that were much too large for her (she briefly wonders who Yang had stolen them from)._

_Looking at her reflection and seeing a scar is nothing new to her…_

_But_ that _scar- That one was new._

_She moves closer to the mirror without realizing it until she’s right in front of it, close enough for her to reach out and touch with her hand if she wanted to but some part of her- childish and superstitious- doesn’t want to. Is afraid to. Like, maybe the mirror-her would gain a mind of its own and pull her into that world, trapped forever and never allowed freedom again._

_Her jaw tightens. It’s an ugly thing to look at, on the right side of her body where Cinder’s spear had impaled her from behind. It was closed, for the most part, courtesy of Jaune’s semblance, but it was fresh and new, raw from the heat of the water from her shower. It puckers red against her pale skin and she winces as her fingers hover over it, ghosting the surface._

_It hurts. No doubt about it, and breathing feels a little weird, a little strained, but what it symbolizes hurts even more._

_It was a sign of her failure._

_A sign of her weakness._

_If she had just been_ stronger _, then maybe Vernal wouldn’t have managed to beat her so embarrassingly. If she had just been_ faster _, faster at her summons, faster in general, then maybe she wouldn’t have lost and maybe she wouldn’t have been so vulnerable to an attack. If she had just been_ smarter _about her strategy, then maybe she wouldn’t have relied so heavily on the new ability that was still so unfamiliar to her._

 _If she had just been_ better _, then maybe she would have won._

_But she didn’t._

_She lost. And almost died in the process, apparently._

_“Not good enough,” her father’s voice echoes in her ears and she winces even more, her hand having a mind of its own as her fingers press against the fresh scar painfully. “You will never be good enough.”_

_What was the point of leaving then?_

_She wanted to prove, to him and herself, that she_ was _strong- strong enough to defy him. Strong enough to take control of her own life and refuse to be pulled along by strings any longer. Strong enough to do what_ she _wanted, be with the people she wanted._

Not good enough _._

 _She was still so_ weak _. Her fingers dig in a little more and a whimper escapes her lips. If she focuses hard enough, she can remember the exact moment the spear had entered her, ripping through skin and flesh and muscle straight to the other side, burning burning burning._

 _And it was_ Jaune _who had to save her. The one who had undeniably been the weakest of them all at Beacon._

 _She scowls to herself. No matter how much time passes, no matter how much “stronger” she thinks she gets, she_ still _needs saving from other people. She still needs someone to protect her, and it aggravates her because it was supposed to be the other way around._

 _This was her family, these people were hers._ She _was supposed to defend_ them _._

_How could she do that when she wasn’t even strong enough to protect herself?_

_Not good enough, not good enough, not good-_

_“Weiss? The food’s here- Hey, Weiss!”_

_There’s a gust of wind in the air, the clicking of the door shutting and locking, and when Weiss blinks again, she startles because someone stands over her shoulder now, and rose petals are fluttering around her for a second before vanishing._

_There’s a hand on her wrist, stopping her from digging her fingers deeper into the scar, pulling her back and Weiss initially resists._

_But she sees Ruby’s eyes in the mirror, looking at her through the reflection, and there is something like heartbreak in them. It makes her stop resisting, her hand going limp in her partner’s grasp, and it occurs to her that she’s been hyperventilating. (She ignores the slight trail of tears on her cheeks.)_

_“Stop,” Ruby whispers, pressed close to her back, and as her breath fans over Weiss’s ear, it makes her shiver. Her voice breaks on her next word, “Please.”_

_Shame washes over her and Weiss damn near wants to shove Ruby away, to push her out of the room and pretend that she didn’t just walk in on… whatever this was. Ruby’s chest moves with her even breaths and Weiss struggles to match it, leaning back into her partner and relishing in that warmth she always gave off._

_They stand there for a moment, looking into the mirror, Ruby’s hand holding a secure grip around her wrist and Weiss making no move to fight against it anymore. She’s suddenly so tired now._

_When her breathing calms down to normal levels, Ruby begins to pull away, slowly and cautiously, and though she probably doesn’t intend it to- it makes Weiss feel like she’s being treated like she was made of glass. Fragile and weak. A twinge of her earlier irritation flashes hot in her chest and she exhales sharply at that, standing up taller and leaning away from Ruby’s addicting warmth._

_Ruby steps back and she’s no longer looking in the mirror, her eyes turning to Weiss now and Weiss just takes a moment to watch her watching her._

_(Perhaps Ruby forgets Weiss can still see her- because there is such an anguished and anxious look to her face it makes Weiss want to apologize for being the reason it was there in the first place.)_

_(Weiss is hyper-aware when Ruby glances down, to the scar, and that’s what makes her finally move.)_

_She turns around, quick enough that it startles Ruby, her eyes snapping back up to Weiss’s face instead of the ugly scar. She doesn't know why it makes her angry. Doesn’t know why she feels so agitated._

_(She’s not mad at Ruby._

_Just at herself._

_Just at her own weakness.)_

_When neither of them immediately say anything, Ruby grows sheepish in the silence, turning her eyes away first and off to the side, scratching the back of her head._

_“Umm… You should probably bandage it. Do you want me to help?”_

_She has to bite her tongue from snapping because the request is innocent enough and Ruby doesn’t deserve to be yelled at for no reason. Weiss catches her temper before it could escape, clutching at the creature’s throat in a vice grip until it retreats back down into her chest._

_The initial “I don’t need help” instead comes out as a quiet, “If you want to.”_

_Ruby notices her struggle. She_ has _to- because Ruby_ knows _her enough by now to_ get it _. She smiles at Weiss’s words, a soft thing that makes calming her temper even easier, before wordlessly reaching her hands down to grab both of hers._

_Her partner leads them over to the bed that Weiss has claimed as her own, a solely uncomfortable thing that somehow feels even better than her luxurious mattress back at the manor. Weiss sits at the edge and Ruby steps away from her, wandering over to the first aid kit that Yang had made a point of bringing along with the rest of Weiss’s temporary clothes._

_She crouches in front of Weiss, putting the kit on the ground beside her, rummaging through the contents for a moment before finding the bandages and gauze and humming in delight. Weiss, not knowing what to do with her hands, just places them on either side of her on the bed, fingers busying themselves by clenching and unclenching the sheets._

_She focuses on her breathing because there’s not really anything else for her to do besides fall into the pit of self-loathing and despair and memories again. One trip to that abyss was enough for today._

_“Try to relax,” Ruby says before she scoots closer, balancing on her toes and reaching up to begin the process. Weiss sucks in a sharp breath, her body instinctively going stiff as the bandages press lightly against the scar, and Ruby looks up at her face with the start of a frown. “That’s not relaxing, Weiss.”_

_“It’s very difficult to relax when you-” her teeth clack together, effectively cutting herself off, blowing out a hot breath through her nose as she forces herself to follow instructions. It’s the least she could do. “Right. Sorry, continue.”_

_Ruby doesn’t immediately start again, the frown taking a full-bloom across her lips, and just looking at it feels so inherently wrong Weiss looks away. She can’t stand it, seeing such concern and worry in shining silver eyes that should only ever be happy._

_She doesn’t frighten as Ruby begins wrapping the bandages around her, moving meticulously and in a fashion that shows she’s_ experienced _at this. It reminds her that while she had been trapped and stuck at home, doing nothing but wasting the days away, Ruby had been out in the world. Fighting, traveling, seeking out those who needed help._

_All without Weiss._

Look how far she’s come without you _, her jaw clenches and she just wants that voice to go away._ All without weak, little you _._

_“I’m sorry, Weiss.” The ex-heiress blinks in mild unease, her eyes snapping down to Ruby’s again, but her partner isn’t looking at her. It dawns on her that she’s done with the bandages and has now just been staring at them, hands hovering near where the scar hides beneath the fabric. Regret hangs heavy in her words as they quiver, “I’m sorry you… I’m sorry.”_

_Weiss feels alarm flare within her, hearing such remorse in her partner’s breaking voice._

_“It wasn’t your fault,” Weiss murmurs, leaving out the obvious “It was mine” part. She wonders if Ruby hears it anyway._

_It wasn’t Ruby’s fault. It wasn’t really Cinder’s either._

_It was Weiss’s- for being so weak._

_Silver eyes lift to her face then and Weiss almost flinches at the intensity within them- sorrowful and fearful and guilty all at once. She holds her ground, however, and she knows nothing good was coming because she’s losing her hold on her irritation._

_“It is though,” Ruby doesn’t snap at her, but her voice is sharp nonetheless. “I’m your_ partner _, Weiss, I’m supposed to watch your back, I-I’m supposed to…” She struggles to look for the right words and eventually finds the_ wrong _ones as she says,_

 _“I’m supposed to protect you.” She pauses and adds, her fingers resting on Weiss’s knees and squeezing slightly, desperately, “I_ want _to protect you. I don’t want you getting hurt.”_

_And coming from Ruby, it’s an inherently innocent thing. Genuine, even. She’s just caught Weiss in a terrible mood, and her terrible emotions twist Ruby’s honest words into something foul. Something that leaves her feeling sick._

_“I want to protect you,” Ruby says, but all Weiss hears instead is: “I have to protect you because you’re too weak to protect yourself.”_

_It makes Weiss scowl, her fingers clenching a white-knuckled grip on the bedsheets and she feels like ripping them apart. Anger courses through her veins, banishing the exhaustion from her body, and it escapes her. Her shoulders stiffen and it feels like she’s going into battle._

_Her voice quivers with barely restrained rage, a growl through gritted teeth;_

_“I’m not_ weak _, Ruby. I_ don’t need you _protecting me.”_

_And Ruby flinches at that, some of the intensity and surety of her gaze wavering, and she reels back a bit on her heels. It almost looks like Weiss has just slapped her- and on any other day, it would be enough to make Weiss stop._

_But not today._

_“I don’t want your pity,” Weiss huffs, a scowl to her lips. “So if that’s all you have to give, feel free to leave.”_

_Ruby remains stunned at that and some part of Weiss wants to apologize immediately while the other just boils in her anger. She keeps her glare on Ruby’s face, unwavering and she wonders why she’s suddenly so determined to chase her partner away. Why she wants to be alone even though she was_ here _, in Haven, with these people, for the sole reason that she wouldn’t be alone._

_She expects Ruby to back away._

_But just like at Beacon, whenever Weiss made things difficult for her just because she was feeling petty, Ruby surprises her. She_ stays _, and she does not waver._

_In fact, she fights back, more determined to get her point across than before._

_(Always clashing the two were. Even now.)_

_(It seems some things never changed.)_

_“I’m not protective of you because I think you’re_ weak _, Weiss,” Ruby’s brows furrow, and her silver eyes glisten like sharpened steel catching the sunlight. “You’re the strongest person I know.”_

_And there’s more she was going to say, but Weiss cuts her off with a bitter, deprecating laugh, “And now you’re making jokes.”_

_“I’m not joking!” Ruby does snap this time, voice cutting into her, and Weiss- for all her anger and irritation- instinctively flinches. Ruby, noticing this, immediately softens and lets out a harsh breath, her entire demeanor sagging a bit in apology. Her voice goes quieter, entirely too honest for Weiss to handle at the moment. “I can never joke about that. You’re the strongest person I know, Weiss… You… You’re_ amazing _.”_

_Weiss, despite herself, flushes a little. When Ruby looks up at her, eyes steadfast in their emotions and much too forthright to even think for a second that there is any trace of doubt._

_When Ruby says that, says those words like_ that _, Weiss can almost bring herself to believe it._

_“I…” her voice fails her and she swallows thickly, blue drifting down to the bandages and quickly averting once again. She doesn’t want to see her failure anymore. “Then, why?”_

_“Because you’re my partner and I want to keep you safe,” Ruby answers, and it should be enough. It’s nearing enough, but it’s not completely there yet and Weiss says nothing, her eyes saying all that she wants to and Ruby_ knows _._

_It’s not enough._

_So, Ruby gives her more._

_Weiss can see her partner’s throat bob with her next swallow, the fingers against her knees curling into tight fists that make her want to reach for them and run her thumb against the back of those knuckles to make them relax. Ruby’s face pinches with something like pain, eyes going distant for a moment, trapped in the throes of memories unimaginable._

_(Gods, what was it like for Ruby to see her like that?)_

_(Weiss pictures their roles reversed- Ruby being the one on the ground, bleeding out.)_

_(It drives her insane.)_

_“I’m protective of you,” Ruby begins, hesitating for a moment before her eyes burn with determination and anxiety all rolled into one writhing, violent emotion. She commits to the rest of her sentence though, voice hard and true and leaving no room for dishonesty, banishing Weiss’s self-doubts and self-hate. “I’m protective of you because I_ can’t lose you _, Weiss.”_

_It takes her a second longer to realize Ruby’s shoulders are beginning to shake, her entire body actually, and her head lowers a bit to where her hair covers her eyes. Her breath hitches as she speaks, “I don’t… I don’t know what I would have done if I had lost you. You’re too important, I-I can’t… I don’t… Weiss, I-”_

_She feels shame for her snapping earlier, panic for seeing Ruby so close to a breakdown, struggling to draw in air because the thought of losing Weiss robs her of breath._

_Her hands move quickly to Ruby’s face, tilting her head up for their eyes to meet in her attempt to stop Ruby’s tears before they could come. She hopes it’s enough- for Ruby to look in her eyes and remind herself that Weiss is here and alive. (It’s enough for Weiss- to look at Ruby’s eyes and know that everything was going to be okay.)_

_It seems to work, because at least now Ruby’s breathing is a little more even, and though her tears don’t fall, they shine like a reflective surface in dark pewter. It surprises her, honestly._

_For someone to care for her like this._

_To care for someone like this in return._

_The thought of_ Ruby _being hurt to the brink of death is not something she can even fathom. And in honor of their open honesty, Weiss runs her thumbs against her partner’s clenched jaw, observing her face full of fear and worry and relief at the fact Weiss was still here, before leaning forward to rest her lips against Ruby’s forehead._

_She enjoys the little wet gasp from Ruby, the way Ruby reaches up to grab at her wrists in order to keep her there longer._

_“I don’t know what I would do if I lost you either, Ruby.” The words are whispered against skin like she’s trying to brand them into her partner’s mind so she could never forget them. Her eyes drift shut and she feels a little steadier now, a little lighter. The demons of self-ridicule that sit on her shoulders, donning the voice of her father more often than not, rear back in the presence of such open light. She can breathe again. “I think I might just go mad.”_

_“I wouldn’t even be able to do that,” Ruby admits and Weiss feels her heart flutter painfully. “I would just be empty.”_

_She hums, a part of her sufficiently satisfied with those words, and she pulls away enough for their eyes to meet again. It’s strange just how candid those eyes could be, while at the same time, they could hold countless secrets of countless different emotions. Her travels have made Ruby just a little more guarded, a little more selfish in the way she keeps the people she cares about close._

_There are things she hasn't told Weiss, things that she may want to say but can’t._

_(Weiss can see it on her face, read it in her gaze: love and adoration and fondness reserved only for her.)_

_That’s fine. Weiss has secrets of her own, has things she wants to tell Ruby but can’t. Not yet and not now._

_Soon._

_Eventually._

_(Hopefully.)_

_“I don’t think that’s possible,” Weiss murmurs, re-focusing on the matter at hand, slowly tugging at her hands a bit and Ruby lets her go with a great deal of reluctance. “I’m sorry for worrying you… I won’t let it happen again.”_

_“No,” Ruby shakes her head before she stands up, towering over Weiss for the moment and gives her a gentle smile. “_ I _w_ _on’t let it happen again.”_

_Weiss huffs a quiet laugh, eyes crinkling at the corners and glancing down as Ruby offers her a hand. “You’ll have to let me carry some of your burdens and responsibilities eventually, Ruby Rose.”_

_“Eventually,” Ruby gives a firm nod, helping Weiss to stand and letting their hands hang between them, rubbing a thumb to the back of Weiss’s palm. “But not now, you just focus on getting better.”_

_“I’m not inept,” there’s a hint of a frown on her face, but she’s not angry anymore. She has no reason to be, and maybe that anger toward herself will rise up again at a later time, but for now, she’s at peace because Ruby is here._

_“I never said you were,” her partner grins just a little, using her own words against her as she says, “I don’t even think that’s possible.”_

_“Cute.” Weiss wrinkles her nose to keep up the act, reaching up and flicking the tip of Ruby’s nose before disconnecting their hands, moving over to the oversized shirt Yang had delivered to her._

_She doesn’t notice Ruby walking up behind her, and her breath hitches as Ruby reaches one arm around her in what could be a hug from behind, but her hand hovers over where the bandage hides the scar. Weiss freezes in place, shirt halfway on, and she glances as best as she can over her shoulder without moving too much._

_Ruby’s head bumps into hers, almost as if she was nuzzling her, and her breath shakes._

_“Don’t hurt yourself again, please,” her hand applies the bare minimum of pressure there and Weiss can fool herself into thinking she feels the warmth of her palm through the layers of gauze. “Talk to me next time you go too far into your head.”_

_It comes out in a request and Weiss can’t help the small smile that pulls at her lips at that. Ruby was never demanding her of anything, always just asking and suggesting._

_“I will,” Weiss murmurs, turning halfway around to poke at Ruby’s shoulder, ignoring the fact that Ruby’s hand shifts because of her movement and is now pressed against the bare skin of her side. She tilts her head for their eyes to meet and takes a brief second to wonder when Ruby became taller than her. “But only if you do the same.”_

_“I tell you everything about me though,” Ruby blinks at her, her lips tugging downward in what could be a frown, what could be the start of a pout. “You understand me.”_

_Weiss shakes her head, “I could walk a mile in your shoes and still not understand what goes on in your mind, Ruby. So please, talk to me too. Just as I am your partner and you want to protect me… You are_ my _partner and_ I _want to protect_ you _.”_

_Her lips definitely form a pout this time, but she acquiesces with a quiet grumble that could be a complaint or a confirmation. Weiss can’t quite tell which one it is. Amusement and overwhelming fondness (and an emotion- love- that she tries not to let consume her) soar through her and Weiss laughs again, reaching her hands up to tilt Ruby’s head down as she presses herself to the tips of her toes. She places another small kiss on Ruby’s forehead and steps away from her and out of reach before her partner could even react._

_“Wha- I… Weiss!?”_

_She feels a flood of smugness wash over her at the way Ruby goes red. Red is such a pretty color on her after all._

_(A thousand different confessions sit on her tongue, but she holds back each and every one of them._

_Not now._

_Later.)_

_“Come, you said the food was here?” She trails to the door, leaving Ruby behind to flounder a bit before inevitably following after her and Weiss feels infinitely better than she’s felt in a while._

_Maybe she wasn’t good enough yet, as her father’s voice so often liked to remind her._

_But she was still training, still learning, still growing._

_She’d get better._

_And she will have Ruby by her side, every step of the way._

**_…_ **

Weiss feels her entire world come crashing down.

She has died and her soul is nowhere to be found anymore.

 _Ruby_ … Her partner, her leader, her friend…

 _What has Salem_ done _to you?_ She wants to ask, wants to speak, but she has no voice anymore. Myrtenaster damn near slips from her grip, hanging loosely by her fingers.

Nothing else is important to her. Not the surrounding Grimm. Not her own exhaustion. Not Blake or Yang or their friends and allies, nor their enemies across from them.

Only Ruby.

Ruby, who faces them like _they_ are the real enemy. Something is wrong, she knows it immediately even without the sensation of foulness that writhes within her aching chest at the sight before her. Something is wrong with Ruby because Ruby would never in a million years be looking at them, at _her_ , like _that_.

She looks about as bloodthirsty as the Grimm do and it frightens Weiss.

She can’t help but wonder just how long Ruby’s been like this. Was this corruption recent? Were they just too little too late to stop it? Or has she been like this for months for the half a year everybody’s been looking for her?

Was it too late to get her back?

 _No_. No, it can’t be too late. Here they were, here she was- all of them, in hell. All for Ruby, all to get her back… and then Ruby shows up looking like _this_ , opposing them.

She can’t wrap her mind around it. She refuses to accept it.

Salem…

 _Salem did this_.

And suddenly, with the beginnings of heartbreak and guilt and sorrow and fear swirling inside of her, all of it is outshined by the sudden surge of downright _fury_ that burns at her chest, right beside her heart like the secondary heartbeat of her summons. It pulses and her heart matches its rhythm and Weiss’s vision is filled with red.

(Red like roses, red like blood, red like Ruby, Ruby, Ruby…)

 _Salem_ did _this_. Salem turned Ruby into the monster she vowed her life to destroying. How cruel the witch could be.

Salem hurt her partner, warped her into something inconceivable, _tortured_ her no doubt.

And Weiss couldn’t do anything about it. Weiss had failed to stop it.

(She’s angry at herself now, furious that despite how much time had passed, she didn’t learn from her mistakes. She still wasn’t strong enough to protect the people she loved.)

They had all failed. Everybody failed to find Salem’s location and everybody failed at getting there _faster_ when they did find it. They were much too slow.

And because they failed…

Ruby suffered.

Her grip on Myrtenaster tightens, and she thinks the Grimm begin to shift in agitation because of her fury alone. Weiss’s jaw clenches and hot tears burn at her eyes, but they don’t fall.

She was done crying. She was done moping and wailing her sorrows at night.

Ruby was right in front of her now.

And Weiss was going to get her back, one way or another.

Yet, even with that intent… she hesitates. Getting Ruby back would entail _fighting_ her and Weiss…

Weiss doesn’t know if she can actually bring herself to do that. Her mind screams yes because, logically, Ruby was going to fight them even if they didn’t want to fight her, so she had to defend herself. Her heart wails no because this was _Ruby_ and she has already suffered enough. She didn’t need to suffer by Weiss’s hand either.

All she wants to do is close the distance between them, hold Ruby close to her, and hope that it’s enough to banish the shadows from her partner’s soul.

Her eyes drift over all of her partner’s body, rage only increasing and the red in her vision only darkening with each off thing about her. Her precious cloak was ripped and torn apart into something unidentifiable even. The damage to her clothes, the stains of blood that may or may not belong to Ruby herself. The veins against her paler-than-usual skin, how painful they seem, how they pulse off-rhythm to Ruby’s heart. Crescent Rose- held aloft and crackling with energy, chipped and in much need of repair.

Her eyes…

**_~:All your, all your life:~_ **

Unwilling, an image of Ruby- _her_ Ruby- flashes across her mind the moment their eyes meet.

The background is faded to white, unimportant because the only thing that mattered then in her mind when it took this picture was Ruby. Ruby is the only thing that ever matters to her.

Her partner is smiling at her, just as she always does. Bright and shining with a radiance that makes her melt, soft around the edges in a way it gets only when it’s directed at Weiss.

Her eyes… a shining silver glistening in the sunlight, crinkled slightly at the edges from her immense mirth. It almost looks like their mythical power is seconds away from activating, all because Weiss is there and it makes her feel special and important in a way that no one else has ever been able to.

She’s reaching toward Weiss because _of course,_ she is. Ruby never went anywhere without her, always inviting her along because she just enjoys Weiss’s company that much and that fact alone is incredibly surreal and difficult for her to believe.

But Ruby is honest. She speaks only in truths to her, and it’s such a refreshing thing after growing up surrounded by lies.

She thinks, of all the things, that’s what made her fall in love with Ruby the most. Her honest heart and the fact she never felt reason to lie. Not to Weiss at least.

It’s a lovely image…

...But then, she blinks…

She blinks, and the image and every happy memory before it shatter like broken glass, fracturing in the way her chest is from her knight’s death.

She blinks, and she’s still looking at Ruby’s eyes, but now instead of adoring, shining silver- it’s tainted with red and black. It gleams like the eyes of the Grimm do, glowing with madness instead of hope, hate instead of love.

Ruby _glares_ at them with no trace of silver, not even the barest flicker. Weiss would have settled for even a tiny little speck. But there’s nothing.

 _Ruby is gone_ , a little voice whispers in her mind and Weiss clenches her teeth and she spits back to it;

_Then I’ll get her back!_

_I can’t lose her._

Through the anger and the bloodthirst and the hate and _distrust_ , Ruby’s eyes gleam with something like a warning and it’s both a relief and pure torture when those eyes turn away from them. Ruby looks to either side of her, a slow shift, and her _wrong_ eyes drift over the awaiting Grimm.

Her head gives a sharp jerk- as if she was saying _no_ to something, a question unheard, and there’s a scowl that pulls at her lips and her teeth grit together. Baring against a silent suggestion.

Weiss doesn’t understand the motions and expressions.

But the Grimm seem to.

They respond in tandem, the synchrony and sudden volume of noise that rises making the hair on the back of her neck rise. The wolves let out snarling howls, the hyenas cackle with madness. The foxes yip, harpies screeching overhead, and the vampire-humanoids shriek. The minotaurs bellow, and the gargoyles roar. The air shakes with the symphony of horror, and within moments, the ground quakes with all the sudden movements as the Grimm start moving again.

Weiss, with her battle instincts getting the better of her, readies her weapon in preparation-

And stops.

Because while there are Grimm on either side of them, running by her and Blake and Yang… The Grimm aren’t running _at_ them. All of the creatures give the gathered three a wide berth, charging around them and not even looking in their direction.

The swell of the monstrous army swiftly separates the three of them from the rest of their allies, but even still, surrounded now more than ever with no one else to rely on… The Grimm avoid them.

Purposefully.

 _Following orders_.

An outlier movement out of the corner of her eye immediately draws her attention back to the front.

Straight ahead… where Ruby takes half a step forward and seems to hesitate.

Blake and Yang shift their attention back as well, the former holding Gambol Shroud at the ready and the latter standing shell-shocked as ever. Weiss feels torn in two, her weapon lowering a bit but remaining tight as ever in her grip. (Her heart and her mind are ripping her apart and she can’t even do anything about it, just like before.)

Conflicted emotions settle heavily on her and make her want to fall apart.

Their eyes meet across the battlefield and Weiss hopes, begs, _pleads_ for there to be even a sliver of her Ruby there. She’d understand the language they made through looks alone. She’d hear Weiss loud and clear.

 _Please,_ she trembles and her tears fall now, _Please stop, Ruby. Please._

_Please come back to us._

_Please don’t do this._

Ruby stares back at her, ignoring everything else around her. The Grimm don’t matter it seems, nor do the calls of desperation of their friends trying to reach them or the cries of the dying, their allies overwhelmed by the sudden surge of Grimm. 

For a second, it almost looks like Ruby understands her. Almost looks like Ruby is about to listen.

But then, she inhales sharply, an imperceptible thing, and her head tilts as if she’s listening to a voice that isn’t there. Weiss sees the way she quivers, her body tightening.

She exhales a slow breath-

Weiss stiffens; begging, praying, hoping, pleading-

Ruby readies her weapon, holding it steadier, the tip of the curved scythe just reaching the ground below… and begins to walk forward. One step, two steps, three.

And Weiss knows, in the deepest parts of her heart she knows…

Ruby is going to fight them.

Blake composes herself, holding Gambol Shroud in position, as reluctant as she seems to do so. Yang stands stock still, in shock and disbelief, eyes wide and mouth gaping. 

And Weiss…

Weiss clenches her jaw. Her free hand balls into a fist and her aura crackles in preparation.

_Fine._

_If that’s how it’s going to be._

_If I have to fight you to get you back…_

_Then so be it._

She wasn’t going to fail again.

They were going to win.

They _will_ save Ruby from this darkness.

Weiss readies Mrytenaster with a heavy heart…

And prepares herself.


	5. Chorus 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The pain train is incoming y'all. Spoiler: it gets worse :). Thanks again everybody for giving this story a shot, and I hope you enjoy this angst. Have fun!

**_~:Let me face, let me face, let me face my fears:~_ **

The world is alive with the sound of agony.

A sweet symphony of pain reverberates through the air, all tones and volumes and pitches, all sounding seemingly at once in a universal scream. Perhaps, even the world, too, was screaming...

Screaming, because the heroes were losing.

The creatures of Grimm charge and attack and swarm with a vigor unlike anything anybody has ever seen before. Even the veterans, renowned for their years of expertise and expansive travels, struggle in the face of such raw, overwhelming might. Pure darkness given free form, negativity given flesh. 

People die within seconds; falling to the ground, auras shattering, bodies torn apart and tossed aside in favor of those still living. The ravenous hunger of the Grimm is enough alone to force many to retreat back whence they came- to the pulsing portal of one Raven Branwen. 

The maiden fights with renewed vigor too, standing near the head of it all, decimating entire hoards of the monsters with a sweep of her hand, an explosion of magic, and the arc of her blade. Jaune and Nora and Ren stay close to her side, the girl with the hammer swinging back-and-forth and just trying to keep the Grimm at bay long enough for them to catch their breaths. They huddle close to each other, forced together through circumstance and rotten luck and their mutual desire to reach the main players of the game.

(That’s all it’s ever felt like now, Salem playing a cruel game with their lives. She was always destined to win and they had the _foolish_ hope that if they just tried hard enough, maybe they could turn the tables.)

“I don’t see them!” Ren shouts, Stormflower slashing at the face of a wolf and shoving it aside, forced to back away when a harpy dives for him and just barely misses. Pale pink eyes try to look past the mass of writhing blackness, but he could not see any splash of color up ahead.

“We have to get to them,” Jaune grits his teeth, the boy shoved back and nearly knocked off his feet entirely when a minotaur decides to try and kick him and he’s forced to raise his shield to block. Though his aura is still strong as ever, courtesy of his fast recovery, his _e_ _nergy_ was beginning to run low now. Every swing of his sword felt like torture. It was only his determination keeping him going. “We have to!”

Weiss. Blake. Yang. The three of them had suddenly been separated as the Grimm charged forward, swallowed by the darkness, and they could do nothing but watch it happen as they were forced backward.

Something had caught his friends’ attention, and he guessed it was the same thing that forced the drake away in the first place, but Jaune and the others hadn’t been able to even get a glimpse of whatever it was before the Grimm went into a frenzy.

“We’ll die trying,” Raven pants from where she stands, demeanor dropping for a moment before she shakes herself out of her exhausted stupor. “We have to-”

“Then we’ll die trying!” Nora screams, all raw fury and desperation, at the same time she smashes her hammer into the next minotaur charging at her. There is a moment of stillness, neither one of them giving, the bull and the girl staring each other down, but Magnhild is as angry as she is, and with a burst of electricity, it tears through the thing’s skull. She keeps her momentum, spinning around completely and arcing the hammer over her head, ramming into the ground and sending a rippling shockwave of bolts scattering across it. She’s panting heavily, just like the others, tears swimming at the surface of an aqua gaze as she looks in the direction they last saw the other three. “We have to try!”

“ _Trust them_ ,” Raven spits, ticked off and equally as impressed at their loyalty toward each other, even in the face of such hopelessness. (Solely because these are Yang’s friends and not because she cares) the maiden reaches forward and drags Jaune just out of range of an arcing fire blade. A gargoyle stands just in front of them, flightless wings batting in the air and a fiery mouth leaching smoke as it screams at them. “We’ll regroup and find a better approach- _T_ _rust_ that they can hold off until then.”

Jaune tears himself from her grip, turning a surprisingly furious glare at her, but she does not waver- holding his gaze with a ferocity of her own. It makes him pause for a moment, his jaw clenching even tighter, and he sends a desperate look toward the swarm up ahead.

There’s too much.

Too much that separates them from the others.

(Too much for them to handle alone…)

He shakes his head firmly and lets out a frustrated growl, taking out some of his agitations on the next lunging hyena, the blade of Crocea Mors stabbing straight through the top of its head and jutting out from the bottom of its chin. He retracts himself, sharing a sorrowful, _heartbroken_ look with his teammates. Ren and Nora stand beside them, Nora shifting her hammer back into the grenade launcher and sending a barrage of pink missiles that explode in front of them.

Jaune, reluctantly, brings one hand to the side of his mouth, takes in a deep breath, and shouts to anybody who could hear him;

“Retreat! Retreat! Go back, retreat!”

A lot of people don’t need to be told twice, abandoning their scuffle with whatever Grimm they were in combat with and simply bolting.

He doesn’t want to leave. Neither does Nora. Neither does Ren.

Neither does Raven, to his surprise.

But they have no other choice.

Jaune looks to the monsters ahead before turning and running with the others, one final thought drifting from his mind.

_Please._

_Hold on._

He runs.

**_…_ **

At the center stage of the grand performance, the final act… four figures stand.

Three together, one in opposition.

The girl with the ruined red cloak, corruption running through her veins and wrapping around her heart like a noose, walks forward with heavy steps. As if she’s tired… as if she’s restraining herself and failing. It almost looks like she might collapse at any point, but she doesn’t.

She keeps moving forward.

The tip of the heavy scarlet scythe drags against the ground, leaving behind a slight groove in its wake. The dirt gives way, rocks screeching in disagreement and torment it seems. Boots crunch against gravel, sounding off each arduous footstep: _one_ , _two_ , _three_ , _four_ …

Across from her- her intended targets, the ones she once called teammates, friends, _family_.

Blake and Weiss have their weapons at the ready… but they hesitate. Bodies tensing and refusing to move at the mere _idea_ of fighting Ruby. Neither of them wants to make the first move, but they knew that if they didn’t, nothing was stopping Ruby from doing so.

(Blake wants to go back to fighting the Grimm instead.)

(Weiss wants the night to be over and done with, to skip to the end so they could- _hopefully_ \- have their victory already instead of having to go through this.)

Yang…

Yang still has yet to react. Her arms hang limply by her side, breath hitching as Ruby draws ever closer, and the scattered pieces of her heart are ground into dust the longer her beloved sister _glares_ at them. One by one, until there are no more pieces left- and it feels like there is nothing left to fight for.

All of them ignore the Grimm, the shouts, the deaths.

They only have eyes for each other.

Ruby takes step after step: _eighteen, nineteen, twenty_.

Blake squeezes her eyes shut on her next exhale, one last tear slipping free and running down her cheek, the grip on both halves of Gambol Shroud tightening before she lets out a trembling breath. She looks up, watching the next approaching _monster_ (she couldn’t think of Ruby as _Ruby_ because then they would get nowhere… yet even with that mindset, all she sees before her is Ruby with a bright smile and she has to shove the image out of her head), and she takes a step, boots crunching against the ground as well.

_That_ , it seems, is enough to drag Yang out of her stillness.

Purple eyes blink, the world re-focusing and expanding, and though she still sees _her little sister_ , she also sees Blake about to charge and Weiss holding her weapon steady. She sees _Ruby_ , approaching with each step, scythe prepared and ready for attack.

_No_.

“Wait,” Yang breathes out with her exhale, voice heavy and strangled and too hard even for herself to hear. She shakes her head sharply and steps forward, not charging but simply walking with cautious steps. She gets about three steps in when Ruby absolutely freezes, every muscle in her body tightening with tension and set to attack at a moment’s notice. Her stance turns steadier, leaning forward a bit, lifting the scythe a little higher in preparation.

Blake, seeing her _stupidly_ selfless, cherished partner walk toward the danger without any of her defenses up, just about has a heart attack. Her body jerks, panic drowning her, and it feels like it did earlier- seeing Yang in the way of the wave of fire and with no way out. She wants to run to her like before, to get her out of harm’s way, but her body suddenly refuses to cooperate (some part of her thinks it’s because her body _knows_ that her moving now will be the last straw that breaks the camel’s back. If she moves now, the fight would most definitely start with no more hesitation on either side).

Her throat tightens and though her voice is robbed from her, she forces her partner’s name out of her mouth in a growl that tears free from her chest. A desperate warning brought forth by primal, all-consuming _fear_.

“ _Yang_ …” her voice trembles the way her body does, rough upon release and wound with just as much tension as Ruby was right now. Golden eyes full of caution and terror do not stray from Ruby’s form whatsoever, as much as she is always wanting to look at her partner instead. She observes, critical and calculating, eyeing every one of her leader’s ticks and tells. (The way the veins pulse against her skin, occasionally crawling higher to encompass more of her from time-to-time. The way Crescent Rose gives an occasional quiver when Ruby’s body shakes. The way those eyes flash with something like a fear of their own and darken with even more anger.)

“Just, _wait_!” Yang extends a hand behind her, meant for Blake and Weiss no doubt, and keeps her eyes on Ruby as well. Shakily, she takes another step, pausing when Ruby’s face tightens and her lips curl to reveal bared teeth, the muscles in her legs twining tighter and prepared to run forward.

Blake wants to argue, wants to stop her. Whatever she was going to do, it was a terrible idea. She can’t move because her body is so tightly sprung, she expects she might snap and fall apart at any second. Breathing is difficult, ears falling flat in displeasure and worry, and another growl rumbles deep within her chest but she swallows it back down.

Against her better judgment, she relents to Yang’s wishes.

Letting out a heavy, quivering breath, Blake lowers her weapons a bit, still holding tightly onto them and still staring at Ruby- watching and waiting for the telltale twitch that meant she was going to charge.

Behind her, Weiss is moving as well, cautious and slowly, and with Ruby’s attention focused on Yang, who stands front and center, she gets away with it. She moves off to the side a little, so Yang is essentially between her and Blake now. (It’s a little worrying and, admittedly, kind of funny- the way the Grimm move away from her as she walks.)

Ruby doesn’t move, observing them just as they observe her.

They honestly don’t know what’s keeping Ruby from running right on ahead- because that was always Ruby’s preferred style when leading a fight- but they choose not to count their blessings. Instead, Yang was going to take advantage of her sister’s seemingly hesitance.

(Perhaps this was proof that Ruby- _t_ _heir Ruby_ \- was still in there. Still fighting back. Still resisting. Still _alive_.)

(Yang just had to find her and pull her out.)

Slowly, with her gauntlet clicking from how much her arm shakes with nerves, her hand lifts in Ruby’s direction, fingers extended- as if she’s beckoning Ruby toward her. Silently telling her to _come home, sis_.

“Ruby…” Yang begins with a shaking voice, breathless from her own terror and grief. She makes a mental note of the way her sister tilts her head slightly at that name, brows furrowing in what could be confusion for a moment before her glare returns. Purple eyes drift then, to the scene all around. The number of Grimm around them was much less now, most of them far at their backs. The castle is much closer than before, a tilt of her head being enough for her to see the broken glass. Back to Ruby, who lets out a shivering breath, entire body seizing up. Yang swallows and keeps speaking, forcing her tone to be as light and comforting as it could be, all things considered.

“I know… I know this looks bad, but- but we’re going to make it better, alright? Th-That’s what we do. We make things better. We… We’re gonna help you, Ruby.” She takes another cautious step closer and her soul sings with hopeful victory when her sister doesn’t immediately charge or react in any way. In fact, it almost looks like she’s listening. “We can fix this. We can make this right. Let’s just… Let’s get out of here, yeah? This place kinda sucks.” She smiles- a tight thing that holds none of the jest she wants it to, and continues anyway, taking another step. “Come back with us.”

Her hand remains extended and it shudders with both the exertion of remaining in the air for so long and with the strain of her anxiety. She ignores it, and Ruby seems to do the same.

The world is silent around them- they are now deaf to the cries of the Grimm and the shouts of their allies- and Blake and Weiss tense even more as Yang takes a few more steps toward Ruby. The fifty or so feet separating the three from one has now been reduced to a mere twenty to twenty-five. 

“We’ve all missed you, Ruby,” Yang’s voice drops in volume a little, a whimper somewhere in there. “And we’re going to make it better. We’ll fix this. All of us.” Their eyes meet and she is soaring high with faith when Ruby looks at her without any of that anger from before. She opens and closes her extended hand in an invitation, her smile coming to her much easier now. “Together.”

She makes no more movement, not entirely wanting to test her luck completely by closing the distance between them. For a moment… For a moment, it looks like Ruby is _actually_ listening to her words.

The three of them see it all at once, Yang- being the closest- sees it clearer than ever.

Ruby’s body sways a bit, rocking to the side before she catches her balance, throwing her battle stance off. Her breath hitches harshly, so sharp it sounds like it hurts, and miraculously, Crescent Rose begins to lower. The tip brushes against the ground again, lurching as Ruby’s grip on it falters.

“...Ya...ng...”

It’s so quiet, so small, Yang nearly doesn’t catch it. But she does, because even through all the chaotic noises around her, her sister’s voice cuts through it all. It’s a little funny and a little sad just how much hearing that voice, after so long, makes her hope blossom like a fresh bouquet of roses- how painfully the broken pieces of her heart are clenched in a tight grip that shoves them back together in some semblance of its previous form. 

Yang doesn’t know if Blake and Weiss hear it.

But she does. So it’s enough.

_Ruby is still there_.

It’s evident in the way Ruby gasps after saying her name, one hand releasing from Crescent Rose and drifting up to grip the side of her head brutally. Her body sways again and she nearly falls to her knees. She takes a small step back.

(Behind her, Blake and Weiss, seeing Ruby take that step away, both beam with equal escalating hope. They simultaneously take cautious steps closer until they’re more or less lined up with Yang- letting Yang hang ahead of them a few feet.)

Yang tries not to cry and doesn’t really know if she succeeds.

Pacifingly, she speaks, hoping her voice reaches that side of Ruby that still fights back against the poison in her veins. That still shines bright in the face of dark corruption.

“It’s gonna be okay, Rubes,” Yang drops her hand now, shifting her weight between her legs and taking another hesitant step forward. “I promise, we’re gonna help you. It’s all gonna be okay.” She stops again and slowly, tiredly, she opens her arms in Ruby’s direction- a silent invitation for an embrace. Her smile is shaky. “But for now, come and give your big sis a hug, cause it’s been too damn long.”

The world- their world at least- goes still then. The movement of the Grimm all around becomes unimportant, the cries and shouts and everything just background noise. Yang only has eyes for Ruby. Her sister grits her teeth, pained, and her hand still presses against her head like she’s trying to shove the memories back by force alone. Crescent Rose leans heavily into the ground beneath her, and the girl with the ruined cloak stumbles back another step, shaking her head.

_Come on, Ruby_. Yang doesn’t move, still standing there, presenting her arms for Ruby to run into like she’s done time and time again. _Come back to us._

_I know you’re still in there._

_Fight it!_

The world and them hold their breaths as Ruby stops completely. Her body stops shaking, she stops jerking her head, she stops retreating. She takes in a slow, heavy inhale- like a person coming up for air after drowning for years and years and years- and her hand lowers. It hangs there for a moment, not moving to readjust her grip on Crescent Rose, and Yang takes that as a good sign.

Her eyes lift, eyes still red and black and entirely wrong, and even with that corruption- Yang believes she can see tears in them. A spark of recognition instead of a blaze of unusual fury. Ruby exhales raggedly and so does Yang, her own tears forming and a smile full of hope pulling at her lips now.

Ruby takes a step forward, unsteady and unsure. The ground quakes and is ruined as the scythe drags along it again. She takes another. And another. And another.

Ruby blinks and her tears fall and Yang knows, can _sense_ it- Ruby is going to go in for a hug. She’s going to fight back long enough to do that, long enough for them to take her to safety and away from this wretched place.

They could go home, run tests on Ruby to get rid of this darkness. Hell, maybe they could even find another silver-eyed warrior to see if that worked. They could _go home_.

They could be a family again.

Ruby takes a step and Yang waits for the long-awaited embrace. Fuck, has she missed her sister.

She waits...

...But…

The hug doesn’t come.

Ruby doesn’t run forward to wrap her arms around her.

Instead, she…

Yang blinks… and suddenly, there is a searing, tearing, _scorching_ torture all up the front of her body, from the middle of her abdomen up her chest, clipping her chin.

Her aura pulses in the shock that she feels, unprepared as it had been to defend her from anything. She had wanted a hug.

She had been expecting a hug.

And instead, she blinks, and there is a spray of blood that arcs over Ruby’s form right in front of her. Ruby had run forward, yes, but not to tackle her in a hug. The corruption had made her cruel and conniving, and Yang had given her the best opening she could find for an attack.

From an outsider’s view, it had happened so fast. (Which, looking at it, wasn’t all too surprising. Ruby was always the fastest one of them.)

One second, Blake was watching her, optimism coursing through her veins and taking the place of the adrenaline, and it made her _sloppy_. Unprepared, just as Yang had been. Just as all of them had been. One second, Ruby moved forward, and Blake had fully been expecting her to hug Yang too.

And then Blake took her eyes away for a second to blink, one second _too damn long_ , and there was a blur of color. In a fraction of a heartbeat, Ruby was in front of Yang… and Crescent Rose tore through the ground as she swung upward.

All Blake had been able to see was a bullet of red rose petals and ribbons of shadows… and all she can see _now_ is the blood. _Yang’s_ blood.

For a breath, time froze at this moment. Ruby in front of Yang, scythe curving upward from her swing. Yang, expression morphed into one of complete shock, standing there with her arms still wide open, _still_ begging for a hug. Weiss and Blake standing uselessly off to the side, nothing more but a few feet apart from Yang but still too far away to do _anything_. They weren’t fast enough to stop it.

Ruby had always been the fastest out of all of them- and now they were paying the price for it.

When time ticks forward again, the only one who moves then is Yang. Since she hadn’t been prepared for any sort of attack, the force of the hit sends her flying backward through the air, completely knocked off her feet in one strike. (The minotaurs must have been jealous.)

Weiss and Blake can only stand and watch as Yang flies by them, vanishing out of their line of sight.

Airborne, Yang still can’t wrap her mind around what just happened. Her aura doesn’t move because she hasn’t commanded it to, the slash on her body pulsing with a heartbeat of pain all of its own.

_Huh_ , she thinks, _It didn’t work._

_Ruby is gone_...

Somehow, that thought wounds her more than the gash does. More than colliding with the ground does, her aura _flaring_ upon impact and there’s still enough momentum that it makes her roll even farther away. Flaring and flickering, but just _barely_ holding itself together. Yang doesn’t know what the point of that is even more.

She doesn’t even know if she’ll have enough aura left to close that wound.

The wound that _Ruby_ made- absolute triumph shining in wrong eyes.

When the momentum stops carrying her across the ground, leaving her even more bruised and battered and scuffed than before, Yang is flat on her stomach, her cheek pressing into the red ground beneath her.

She doesn’t know if that red belongs to her.

Her gaze goes blurry, and she can see something moving, expanding around her, and- oh.

It’s a puddle of blood.

_Her_ blood.

Something tells her that isn’t good. Neither was the heaviness in her bones, the blurred vision that only grew hazier and eventually, she closes her eyes because that’s the easiest thing to do right now.

Yang closes her eyes and all she can see is an image of Ruby.

Ruby, smile bright and silver eyes joyful as ever, hugging her tightly in her best attempt at a bear hug.

And then it shifts, cracking and splintered like the pieces of her heart, and she sees something new. Something she doesn’t want to accept.

Ruby, standing before her, the poison of Salem evident on her face and her clothes and her glare, grinning wickedly with _victory_.

The last thing she sees is eyes of red and black.

**_…_ **

**_~:Let me face, let me face, let me face my fears:~_ **

Blake’s heart stops.

In an achingly familiar way, now that she thought about it.

Seeing Yang go flying like that, her _blood_ arcing through the air, watching her take such a devastating hit… For the second time that night, her memories drag her back to Beacon. The moment in time where Yang leaped to her, _for_ her, just to take Adam’s attention away without thinking of any of the consequences.

The moment when Yang fell, her right arm severed, and rolled across the ground, unconscious and spared from feeling that affliction for not a second longer.

Right now, as she whirls around to look where Yang has landed- despite _every_ instinct telling her not to turn her back to the danger- the image is hauntingly, terribly familiar. Yang, motionless on the ground, face-down… blood pooling around her.

Not responding.

_She’s not moving, she’s not moving, she’s not moving_.

White noise fills her ears, body going numb, vision tunneling to Yang Yang Yang. Yang, who still had yet to respond. Yang, who had a pool of blood around her.

Yang, who _wasn’t moving_.

“ _I’m not going to leave your side_ ,” she had said to Yang once upon a time and meant it, the only vow she’s ever made that she knows she’ll never break. “ _Don’t go where I can’t follow_.”

_Don’t go, don’t go, don’t go_.

_Please, don’t go._

It feels like Yang is leaving her, and the thought drives her _insane_. There’s an ache in her head and her chest and she wonders if this is what it feels like to fall apart.

A scream tears her chest open, ripping free with the sound of her breaking heart and it is such a raw, primal sound, the air shakes in her presence, and the Grimm that had been ordered not to target them shift their attention to her for a second, drawn in by her fear. 

“ _YANG!_ ”

_Please, please, please._

_Please, don’t leave me._

And then she’s sprinting. She forgets everything else.

Forgets the fear and the pain and the exhaustion. Forgets the Grimm and the sounds of their dying allies. Forgets _Ruby_ , turned into a monster who just attacked _her partner_. Forgets the fact that they were now _losing_.

Blake only remembers Yang at this moment.

Yang- with her kind smiles, gentle touches, soothing warmth. Yang- with her caring heart and sensitive soul and her tendency to take the hits for others despite leaving with the most bruises. Yang- with her soft lips and kisses that made Blake feel absolutely worshipped and truly loved.

Yang... with her blood pooled around her. 

Yang... who was not getting up.

Yang… who was _leaving_ her.

Blake runs as fast as she can and it still feels like she’s too slow. (She suddenly wishes her semblance was true teleportation instead.)

But while _she_ forgets everything but Yang… while _she_ forgets about Ruby…

Ruby doesn’t forget about her.

(Her next target, a _moving_ target, excites her into action.)

It’s a strange sensation. Blake is running, but the world seems to fall into slow-motion around her. Lungs burning, heart in the iron grip of absolute terror, legs pumping and arms swinging. 

Perhaps it is only her battle instincts, the one thing that has kept her alive despite it all, that makes her focus on her surroundings for a split second.

A split second long enough to see a single, withered rose petal drift into her line of sight, fluttering at a normal pace despite the slow-motion set upon the world, and goosebumps rise against her flesh then, the hair on the back of the neck raising in a devastating warning.

Despite herself, despite wanting nothing more than to get to Yang’s side, Blake steps on the brakes. Her body lurches at the sudden stop, wanting wanting _wanting_ to keep going, to get to Yang, but by some form of miracle, she manages to stop her momentum. And reverse it.

She throws herself the way she just came, head jerking back and she has just enough time- and sheer _luck_ \- to avoid being decapitated. The tip of a curved blade swings right by her nose. Ruby’s scythe seems to materialize before the rest of her does, aiming directly for Blake’s head on her swing. She certainly wasn’t wasting any time toying with them.

For some reason unbeknownst to her, for whatever _lies_ and _control_ Salem instilled into her friend’s head, Ruby wants to get rid of them quickly.

Blake bares her teeth, feeling so alarmingly feral it would have scared her otherwise, and hot tears trail down her face as she’s forced to back away, farther from Yang. Ruby stands in her way, blocking her path, and as much as she wants to get to her partner’s side, she also still doesn’t want to fight Ruby. Every other blink and she sees _t_ _heir_ Ruby instead of this monstrous one.

She has no time to find her voice before Ruby looks up at her from where she’s crouched, eyes narrowing and annoyed at the fact Blake dodged, and she begins to unleash on her. Twirling the heavy scythe around her body expertly, wielding it like it weighed nothing, Ruby becomes a whirlwind with a sharp blade, and Blake, regretfully and reluctantly, has to turn her focus to the danger before her.

(The thought of _Yang, Yang, I have to get to Yang_ plays on flashing repeat in her mind and it’s giving her a migraine.)

Gripping Gambol Shroud tighter, Blake prepares herself. _Fine_. If Ruby wanted a fight, then she will release some of her frustrations now. The scythe spins around Ruby, this time aimed for Blake’s stomach, and Blake jumps over it, one foot balancing on the flat end of the crescent-shaped blade as she brings the other up, swinging it around and landing a solid kick to Ruby’s head.

It causes the cloaked girl to stumble, off-balanced and mildly disorientated before she growls and shakes her head, charging forward again once Blake hops away from her. Ruby spins the scythe around her shoulders, coming at her with a diagonal attack, and the ricochet of a bullet from the sniper makes it faster than Blake is expecting. She grits her teeth, letting it tear through one of her clones instead as she solidifies even farther out of reach. (Even farther from Yang.)

Her frustration and desperation to reach her partner are getting the better of her, her aura crackling and moving much too quickly to pool into both halves of her weapon. It burns her palms, the air hissing with steam from where she grips her weapon, the sting just about making her lose focus entirely, but she is fueled by anger and fear and panic and manages to keep her hold. Gambol Shroud shines with white-purple energy, violent and crackling like Ruby’s aura slashes had- a sign of having no control over this power- and she unleashes both at once, the two shockwaves nearly merging into one as they tear through the air with a savage roar.

Ruby, who was a little distracted by her clone and clearly confused about seeing it, takes the hit directly and lets out a sharp cry. (It hurts, her heart lurching unbearably and a thousand apologies springing to the tip of her tongue, having to attack Ruby like this. But she has to get to Yang, she _has to_ , and Ruby is in her way.)

Ruby stumbles back, falling on her back for a moment before she rolls to her feet with a snarl and disappears in a storm of dead petals and shadowy ribbons. It shoots straight to her and Blake rolls to the side, hissing when Ruby suddenly changes direction to remain in front of her, a knee colliding into her stomach and sending her back a few more steps. (Farther from Yang, she’s right where she started again.)

Her fingers twitch, prepared to slash and truly attack and go in on Ruby, but she can’t and half of her _hates_ that she can’t. This was _Ruby_ , yes, but _Yang_ was still on the ground and she was wasting her time here. 

Her hesitance is distracting.

Blake is surrounded by a tornado of rose petals and wisps of darkness as Ruby dashes all around her. Though Ruby has always been fastest, Blake has always been the best at dodging. Evasion and speed collide in a whirlwind of movements that don’t make sense to anybody but the two of them, a few seconds scuffle feeling like an eternity for Blake.

Eventually, one of them had to give, and _of course,_ it has to be her.

A misstep is all it takes, and as she accidentally steps into one of the many grooves Ruby had made into the ground and loses her balance, Blake braces herself for impact. She has used too many clones in quick succession, and though she reaches to her aura for another, it doesn’t come and she knows she won’t be able to dodge this next hit. Ruby swings at her without hesitation, teeth clenched together in frustration of their own, and Blake sees the tip of the scythe coming straight for the middle of her chest.

(It sucks because, at this point, Blake has just now managed to turn their positions; her back to Yang and a clear exit just open and ready for her to run to her partner.)

Blake, despite wanting to remain brave, squeezes her eyes shut and prepares for the fresh blossoms of agony. Honestly, she doesn’t even know if she has enough aura left to stave off this hit entirely, and if Ruby hits her hard enough, she has little doubt that it would tear right through her. (This could possibly kill her, but she doesn’t care, her concerns only for Yang Yang Yang behind her.)

She waits…

But the hit never comes.

Because just as always, just like so many times throughout this entire, horrible night, Weiss is there to save her. Always having their backs, that one was.

The song of a glyph sounds in front of her and Blake wants to cry in relief and gratitude. When she opens her eyes, she does it quickly enough to see Crescent Rose bounce off of the shining, white barrier, the glyph pulsing and flickering from the impact but remaining strong and bright. The force of it makes Ruby stumble back, no doubt disturbed by such a hard collision, and it’s a miracle she doesn’t lose her hold on her scythe at all.

Blake could hear the aggravated huff, could see the way examines the shining glyph with such hate and something like disgust.

Both of their eyes turn to where Weiss stands, rapier and her free hand pointed in their direction, tears rolling down her face and a grim line of determination to her lips. Blake, even at this distance, could _feel_ the internal conflict her friend goes through. The creation of the barrier was her step into the arena, and now, she is as equal a target to Ruby as they are.

It’s evident in the way a low growl rolls free from Ruby’s mouth, fingers that already held a white-knuckle grip on the scythe somehow becoming tighter with the annoyance that radiates from her in stomach-churning waves. Blake had never seen Ruby angry before- truly, violently angry. 

She doesn’t like it one bit.

But still, Weiss has given her something Blake could honestly never repay: an opportunity. A chance to take Ruby’s attention off of Blake so she could finally, _finally_ go to her partner’s side and hope and beg and pray it isn’t too late. She wastes no more time, hardly allowing herself a moment to catch her breath before she’s turning around and running again.

She has a one-track mind, one _goal_ in mind, and that’s to get to Yang.

And because Blake has her back turned, she doesn’t see what’s about to happen.

Because Ruby _doesn’t_ turn immediately to charge at Weiss. She doesn’t rose burst her way around the glyph either- because surely she’d still reach Blake by this point. 

No, Ruby doesn’t do any of those.

Instead, she holds Weiss’s gaze with a distasteful curl of her lips and a blaze in her eyes. Eyes that seem to glint with a challenge, amusement. _Oh_? Ruby’s gaze seems to say, because even now, even with blight in her soul and poison in her veins and shadows in her heart, she _still_ speaks the silent language only Weiss and her know. _That’s cute._

_Good effort._

Weiss’s eyes go wide in understanding. Ruby hops back, preparing herself, holding her scythe back as violent energy seeps into the blade again. Her eyes turn to the glyph, to where Blake runs just ahead of it. And Ruby… Ruby looks like she doesn’t care about the barrier at all. She’ll smash through it regardless.

A warning would come too late.

Blake more hears than sees it, the sound of activating static and the thrumming that was all too familiar to her that fills the air over the cries of distant Grimm. (She was the one who taught Ruby, after all.) She knows without having to look at what Ruby is about to do.

She keeps running, hoping that the distance would throw off Ruby’s aim at the very least.

It’s the sound of… what could only be glass _s_ _hattering_ that damn near makes her pause. (In the distance, she thinks she can hear Weiss let out a strangled gasp, but she can’t entirely be too sure right now.) There is a roar that is louder than the rest and she has no time to comprehend what the glass was.

She has no time to comprehend _anything_ before there is a _pain_ unlike any other that rips open across her back, between her shoulder blades, and down her spine to the small of her back. It steals the air from her lungs before she has a chance to catch it and the force sends her sprawling forward. 

(She had been so, _so_ close to Yang. Just a little more, _just a little more_ -)

Her aura holds itself together by mere threads, just enough so the attack doesn’t rip _her_ apart. Blake lands away from Yang, across from her, off to the side about ten or so feet apart. She remains on her side, her back still to the aftermath of whatever that was, and she curls into herself, a soundless cry of agony coming from her and she shudders.

The cut she had received from the jaguar to her cheek had been mere child’s play. She very nearly feels sorry for every Grimm and enemy she has ever used that attack on because it is sheer _agony_. It burns hotter than the black flames of the gargoyle, the edges of it blistering and she can _feel_ her blood pooling out of her back, spilling freely toward the ground, staining her white coat a brutal shade of red.

(She regrets ever teaching that move to Ruby. She regrets ever _learning_ it.)

It takes quite a bit of effort to draw in air, the expansion of her lungs moving her sides and her back and- _Fuck_! A whimper leaves her mouth and she blinks, tears flowing freely, and she gingerly tilts her head up. Every movement incapacitates her, the pain only burning hotter and hotter and hotter. Right at her spine, right at her nerves, and it sends ripples that tear her apart all over her body. She’s honestly surprised she can even still move. Ruby, by some miracle, hadn’t hit her enough to paralyze her. Or maybe it was her aura that kept her safe, that took the brunt of the true damage.

If this was only the remnants of it, she hates to imagine what it would have been like to feel the whole thing.

It is an arduous task to tilt her head back, gaze blurring from the suffering, but she clutches onto consciousness with a death grip because Yang is _right there damnit_! Yang still doesn’t move and Blake wants to make the terrible trial of crawling to her side, but energy has abandoned her and she is forced to lay there and twitch with the agony.

She has lost her grip on the blade of Gambol Shroud, it’s somewhere on the ground between her and Yang as if trying to reach the unconscious girl for its master, and only the cleaving sheathe remains in one hand. With her other hand now free, she extends it feebly in her partner’s direction. 

Everything hurts…

But nothing hurts quite as much as being so close to Yang and still not being able to reach her, still not being able to touch her. Her body is betraying her and she can’t force it to move any further than extending a hand out. 

_Come on._

_Just a little more._

Yang was almost within reach.

_Almost._

Yet, still too far away.

“...Yang…” she murmurs weakly, a breath of a whisper, a desperate plea for her to _wake up_. Blake shifts and a fresh spasm of crippling heat licks across her muscles, her hand falling against the ground and head dropping to the dirt. She grits her teeth, and if there is any time she wants to curl up into a ball and cry, it’s now.

She doesn’t though.

The night is not over.

Despite how much she really wants it to be.

_It’s only just begun._

**_…_ **

**_~:Won’t be long, won’t be long, I’m almost here.:~_ **

Weiss doesn’t know what’s worse.

The internal strife she feels, being forced to make that decision to activate her glyph to defend Blake, leaves her feeling sick all over. Raising her weapon against Ruby like that. Having to defend Blake _from_ Ruby like that.

(She had never seen Ruby attack someone in the back. Never someone running away.

Ruby was more respectful than that, even to the enemy.)

Making that decision to step in and fight was bad enough.

But Ruby…

She had shivered at the way Ruby looked at her, unadulterated fear piercing through her body. At the challenging gleam that appeared before them, the dangerous glint within them. Weiss had been confused when Ruby had turned back toward the barrier, toward Blake running away, and Weiss had initially prepared herself to trap Ruby with her glyphs if she was about to make chase.

But, she didn’t. Instead, Ruby had other ideas on how to get through the wall Weiss placed before her.

She was going to tear right through.

When Ruby had turned back around, her scythe shining with an ominous scarlet, Weiss couldn’t help but question if it was even _possible_ for her glyphs to break. She had never questioned their invulnerability, always relying on them to take even the hardest of hits from the hardest of hitters. It had survived a charging _minotaur_ for crying out loud.

But apparently, a blunt force from a Grimm was not the same as an attack that used _aura_ as its main component. Corrupted aura at that.

(Admittedly, she didn’t know how that worked. It had been a signature move for Blake and she had been encouraging to Ruby when she revealed she was trying to learn.)

(Now, Weiss regrets encouraging her.)

Ruby moved faster than she could react, arcing her scythe over her head and ramming it into the ground. The resulting shockwave of red energy had ripped the earth apart, reaching her glyph in a matter of seconds.

And Weiss had expected it to hold like it always did.

So, she was incredibly surprised when it didn’t.

Incredibly surprised for all of a second before the agony came. It felt akin to when her night had vaporized in the acid-fire of the drake, and she could _f_ _eel_ every millimeter that the shockwave tore through until it reached the other side. It had felt like someone had thrust their hand into her chest, gripped her spine, and pulled it straight out of her.

She falls to her knees the instant her glyph shatters and Weiss believes she might die- again- for the second time that night.

There is an invisible force choking her and she can’t draw in air, her hands going to her chest and throat to try and pull off the imaginary hand killing her and finding nothing. Mrytenaster lays on the floor beside her, useless and abandoned, but Weiss can’t even be bothered to pick it up right now. The pressure on her chest increases and increases and increases, becoming heavier and heavier, and she thinks she might break like her glyph had.

She doesn’t scream in pain, can’t find the air to do so, and her eyes dart away from the evaporating remnants of her glyph down to the uncovered skin of her chest and she sees… something.

It looks like… a crack. Like a small crater at the center of her chest, below her collarbone, blue and purple and green with the bruise and internal damage. It looks like someone threw a ball through a window, lines splintering out against the rest of her skin and disappearing beneath her clothes.

It’s entirely morbid to look at and she can’t seem to look away for those first few seconds. She grimaces at the sight of it, lungs finally filling with air, but even that felt difficult. Her chest feels like it’s caved in at this point, but the fight wasn’t over.

The night was still going.

As she tears her eyes away from that _horrid_ new scar, her gaze lifts, and what little air she had managed to salvage leaves her instantly.

Ruby is looking in her direction now, apparently satisfied with whatever damage she had done to Blake. Instead of the burning rage of before, there’s a contemplative frown on her partner’s face. Confused. Thoughtful, and she tilts her head like she’s trying to solve a riddle. Weiss distractedly reaches down to pick up Mrytenaster, her other hand remaining at her chest, covering the scar for the moment and even more protective than before.

But then, just like before, Ruby stiffens up, as if she’s been caught doing something she’s not supposed to, and a scowl pulls at her lips now. Her jaw tenses and she lets out a harsh breath before she hefts her scythe in the air, walking toward Weiss.

Weiss lets out a sharp exhale in response, and she doesn’t know why it still stings so much. _Ruby is gone, Ruby is gone, Ruby is gone!_ She had to accept it. She had to fight.

She had to get her back, and the only way to do that was to fight.

So, why wasn’t she moving?

Ruby is halfway to where she is still on her knees before her aura crackles over her body again, dull red stained with midnight black, another slash charging up, and it’s a wonder how Crescent Rose can still remain in one-piece after so much abuse.

Weiss has barely enough time to throw herself to the side before Ruby unleashes it toward her. It roars past her, disappearing into the distance uselessly and only abusing the ground in its wake. She rolls to her feet then, clutching her rapier between her fingers, and as she stands, she’s immediately surrounded by the scent of roses.

It makes her chest ache even more, in a different way entirely, and it is virtually just as excruciating as the crater there now. Nostalgia and wistfulness pluck at her mind and she has to force herself not to close her eyes and drown in that scent she had missed so much. (It’s easier to do than she thought it would be because even with that achingly familiar aroma, even _that_ is tainted with something _not Ruby_.)

Her eyes lift just in time to see Ruby appear, scythe held over her head and teeth bared down at her. So close now, it’s even more agonizing to see her like this. Pale skin stained with fresh blood, Yang’s blood most likely, and a murderous look in _wrong_ eyes. Weiss has just enough sense to jump backward, the ground cracking where the tip of the blade embeds itself into the earth and pretending it was the ex-heiress instead. That would have hurt. That would have _definitely_ hurt her.

Weiss readies her rapier to retaliate, an opening present for her as Ruby struggles to free her scythe… but she hesitates.

An image flashes in her mind, so quickly it’s jarring. Of them, at Beacon, sparring with each other and still trying to work out the kinks of their new partnership. Back then, Weiss had detested the way Ruby fought.

She had been the epitome of everything Weiss was taught not to be like and everything she wished she was.

Wild, unbound by strict rules and regulations placed upon herself, yet still graceful in her own way. Ruby was raw talent where Weiss was pure skill honed by hours and hours and hours of studying and practice. Ruby swung with reckless abandon, moving like it was the only thing she knew how to do, while Weiss observed, backing away and defending more often than not, waiting for an opening that may or may not ever show. Her partner was strength and speed given life while she had been patience and cunning given form.

Despite their differences, in the sparring room and out of it, Weiss would be lying if she said she hadn’t enjoyed their sessions together. She had never had _fun_ while training before, but fun seemed to follow Ruby wherever she went and even to a place like that.

The girl was never without a thrilled grin on her face during their spars.

And now, Weiss blinks, startled by the image and the harsh grunt that leaves Ruby’s lips, and her opening is gone. Cursing her hesitance and sweet memories, she watches as Ruby tears her weapon free from the ground, dirt and rocks flying this way and that. There is a terrifying look in her eyes and Weiss has just enough time to activate the last of her dust needed to make a complete forcefield around her before the blade comes swinging down at her.

Her barrier flashes, ripple spreading all across the surface as Ruby tries regardless to force her way through it, but it holds and her partner is forced to withdraw. Rearing back, Ruby spins, scythe arcing through the air and coming at the barrier at another angle, and Weiss holds her rapier close in front of her, holding steady.

The fact that the shield doesn’t break _infuriates_ Ruby, who, standing so close Weiss can see every speck of blood on her face, lets out a shout of fury, twirling and spinning her weapon and attacking the barrier repeatedly. With every hit, every time the blade bounces off harmlessly, Weiss can feel it weakening and though she knows, _she knows_ she has to do something and focus on finding that weak point again- emotions get in the way and she’s crying.

“Ruby!” she calls out, hoping to reach whatever remnants of her partner remained in this monstrous being, voice breaking and hoarse. She grits her teeth, flinching as Ruby’s next hit is a particularly powerful one, and she can feel herself start to waver. “Please, stop!”

She doesn’t want to fight. _She knows_ she has to fight, but everything about it just feels so wrong she can’t bring herself to. It would be so much easier, Weiss muses, if she _didn’t_ care for Ruby as much as she did. If Ruby didn’t have as much of a sway on her that she did. It would make having to raise her weapon against her so much simpler.

Her partner has ruined her and she will never be the same again.

(She can’t tell if that’s a good or a bad thing.)

Ruby lets out a yell in response, and Weiss can hear her aggravation and her wrath, yes, but she can also hear something else… Desperation. And whether that desperation is just to break through Weiss’s shield or just to get rid of them faster or if it comes from deeper inside of her, the flickering light that is about to go out, she can’t tell. 

It sounds like a cry for help just as much as it’s a battle cry.

Her next swing is what does it, the forcefield holding and getting rid of most of the momentum and force behind it, but it’s not enough to keep her completely safe and Weiss has to hastily bring Mrytenaster to her side to stave off the brunt of it as the arc collides into her. Ruby is physically stronger than she is, always has been considering what she decided to wield to battle, and her feet skid on the ground, smacked aside.

Ruby advances then, stepping closer to her, scythe a hurricane waiting to rip her to shreds and she actually gets a few hits in before Weiss can get closer and out of range of the curved blade. Face-to-face for the first time in half a year and the ex-heiress chokes on her breath. This close, she can fool herself into thinking the red and black of her eyes were their beautiful silver instead. That the scowl on her face was a smile instead.

She has to stop thinking like that.

Gritting her teeth, Weiss drops to one knee swiftly, plunging the tip of her rapier into the ground and clicking the dust into activation. An explosion of wind whirls around her, a barrier in its own right, and Ruby is lifted off her feet immediately and tossed away like a puppet set loose from her strings. Weiss ducks her head as the blade curves by, nearly nicking the top of her scalp before it’s safely away from her and she can stand again.

Her revolvers click and rotate, spinning longer than she would have liked and a clear indicator that most of her dust cartridges were empty now. Hazarding a glance down, she frowns and tries not to let it discourage her. Only three remained, two of them halfway empty already and one she only liked to use if there was no other choice (looking at it now, it was becoming more and more likely). It was funny, fire and ice being her only other options left, the rare white dust sitting pretty and full just between them.

She’d have to switch up her tactics soon if she ran out of those.

Ruby doesn’t land incredibly far away, and that was fine. All she had wanted was to give herself some space to breathe without the scent of roses suffocating her with its fond memories.

Her partner skids across the ground on her back, continuing with the momentum and rolling over herself until she’s able to steady herself to one knee, planting the tip of her weapon into the ground and Weiss has no time to react before Ruby aims directly at her and fires. The _crack_ of the sniper is deafening to her ears and oh-so-familiar it almost makes her fall into the memories again. But she resists, pushing them aside, and it’s significantly easier to do when the bullet meets the middle of her abdomen.

It doesn’t pierce through her, luckily enough, but the blunt damage makes her stumble back, the wind forced from her lungs and she doubles over a bit, gasping. She has never been on the receiving end of the sniper before, but _fuck_ she never wants to be on the receiving end of it again. Another _crack_ and Weiss desperately brings her blade up, deflecting the bullet and making it whiz past her ear instead of letting it land against her forehead.

A third sounds and Weiss spins out of the way of this one, the bullet lodging harmlessly into the ground instead of inside of her.

And where Weiss stops, her chest clenches painfully when roses rush around her, and she curses herself because, for as much as she looks for openings, Ruby does the same. They trained together, after all, picking up pieces of the other and adopting it into their own style. Ruby appears in front of her again, in the air, scythe held back and ready to behead her in the same way she had tried doing to Blake earlier.

Weiss is afraid to summon another glyph- doesn’t really think she _can_ anymore at the moment. So, she instead clicks the trigger of her blade, expelling the rest of her ice dust to create a shielding wall around the front of her, the frost curving around the ex-heiress protectively to defend its master. The scythe lodges itself deeply into the ice, stuck, and Weiss lets out a breath of relief and takes a cautious step back and out of its range.

Ruby stands on the other side; and for as much as Weiss breathes heavily, her partner is also panting for air. Perhaps this is the most exertion she has had in a while, and despite the situation, Weiss feels sorry for her. 

(For half a second, she morbidly wonders what it feels like. To experience such scourge in your soul, corruption pulsing with each pump of your heart, to feel yourself rotting away with every passing second. And worst of all… to be _aware_ of it, unable to do anything about it. A prisoner in your own body. How scary and heartbreaking it must be for her.)

(Another tear rolls down her cheek for her partner, and all she wants to do is run a thumb down Ruby’s cheek and hold her gently.)

Their battle comes to a momentary standstill. Their eyes meeting across the wall of ice, the image distorted just the slightest bit but still clear enough for them to see each other. Weiss frowns, noting the way Ruby looks _tired_ and _terrified_ now. Her pants sound incredibly harsh, painful to listen to, close to a wheeze.

Weiss wants to reach her free hand out to press against the ice shield she made, another barrier to defend herself, another wall keeping Ruby out. She wonders if Ruby would copy her because right now, it looks like the fight is a heartbeat away from leaving her body entirely and her eyes flicker then. Just a flash, a little speck of _silver_ bleeding through the red.

She’s crying.

Ruby is crying.

And Weiss is just about to drop her wall entirely and pull Ruby into an embrace and out of the shadows, but… But...

Things are too good to be true.

Because only one tear manages to fall, only half a breathless sob manages to escape her lips, before Ruby grimaces. In a kind of torment that is nothing like her little flinches of before, and she shakes her head, chin tucking to her chest for a moment like a puppy scolded. Her eyes close and Weiss holds her breath.

_No…_

_Please don’t leave. You were right there._

_Please keep fighting._

A spasm racks through Ruby’s body, aura crackling and the blotches of black that stains the red becomes darker, the dull crimson fading even more, and Ruby’s next exhale comes out sharp and with the tail end of a growl. Her eyes lift again and they narrow and the silver is gone gone gone.

Forever.

Ruby’s muscles tense, the ice creaking in protest and warning, and Weiss can only stand and watch it happen as her partner forces her scythe the rest of the way through the ice. The top half slides off and crashes into the ground, breaking into chunks, and Ruby moves quickly.

Weiss can’t do anything. Her mind still hyper-focused on that speck of silver that vanished as quickly as it appeared.

She shouldn’t be fighting at all anymore. She’s too distracted, too deep into the abyss of memories to find a way out anymore, and it costs her.

Ruby vaults over the broken ice wall, lunging off of it like a catapult, the scythe unfolding and becoming more like a spear than anything, coming straight for her and-

Weiss is half-aware that Ruby is aiming directly for her heart, straight for the kill.

And she has just enough sense and consciousness to _attempt_ to dodge, stepping aside like that’ll possibly help, and she…

She isn’t fast enough. Of course, it’s not surprising, _Ruby has always been the fastest one_.

For an instant, her aura holds a valiant battle against the end of the scythe, blue sputtering like a water’s surface disturbed and focused on where Ruby is trying to stab her. But because it’s wavering- because it is as hesitant as Weiss feels- Ruby slips through an opening in the defense, and Weiss can feel the moment it begins to pierce through her left shoulder, so close to her heart still.

It’s the same moment that she knows they’ve lost Ruby completely, the bane too much for them to cure alone.

Weiss can’t even cry from the pain she feels, her body freezing in place for a moment as the tip of the scythe embeds deeper and deeper into her shoulder. She knows Ruby intends to tear straight through.

In a blind panic more than pure battle instinct, Weiss feels the hand holding Mrytenaster move, left arm screaming in suffering for her and burning and she wonders how it’s even possible for her to move it at all considering there’s a scythe stabbing her in that shoulder.

_There’s a scythe stabbing her_ in that shoulder…

_Ruby’s_ scythe. Her precious Crescent Rose.

Her arm moves, shaking, and she thrusts her weapon forward, the length of Crescent Rose making it impossible for her to actually stab Ruby in return, but that’s fine. She still has some options, and in her desperate act to _get away from Ruby_ , Weiss clicks the trigger and activates whatever dust is left in place. If she does nothing, the scythe will tear through her and Weiss doesn’t think she can physically survive that.

She remembers a second too late that the only dust she has left is the special white one… and fire. Incendiary.

_Well, shit_.

She has no time for regrets, no time to change her mind because her fingers move without her consent and so does her aura to open the channel for her dust. A ball of condensed fire immediately forms at the tip, the last of the red-orange dust emptying in the blink of an eye. It contracts, writhing and growling, and Weiss has to brace herself.

Sure, getting impaled by a scythe _hurts…_

But so does being in the range of an explosion.

Too late, the little ball of fiery doom flickers once before expanding in a blazing detonation. She has just enough time to squeeze her eyes shut before the heat reaches her.

The blast of the explosion sends her flying back, similar to the way Ruby had knocked back Yang, but while it does- it also sends _Ruby_ flying in the opposite direction, the wall of ice at her back vaporizing in an instant. Weiss is torn free from the scythe and she can breathe with it gone, except fire and flames and smoke fills her lungs and she’s airborne.

It’s a freeing sensation. She can almost forget about all of her aches and pains and sorrows. Can almost forget that they were still in hell and Ruby was trying to kill them.

Can almost forget that Ruby was losing herself more and more, and the longer this went on, the less they had a chance of getting her back at all.

She collides with the ground all too quickly, bouncing away from the initial spot and tossed by momentum until she is dragged to a gradual stop. Weiss lays on her side, _off_ of the shoulder that was just impaled, thankfully, and her aura flutters and holds, not really knowing where to heal her first and she lethargically urges it to attend to where she was stabbed.

She can feel the burn marks and wonders if this is how much misery Yang had been in when she was bitten by the burning mouth of the gargoyle. Weiss has little doubt her combat outfit is ruined and littered with holes and charred and she vaguely becomes aware that her entire left glove has burned away and she doesn’t even want to bring herself to look at the aftermath of it. (Hmm… maybe she should have healed something else first…)

Smoke coils off of her body, the smell of burnt hair making her want to gag and she wonders- vainly- just how ruined that was now. A hiss escapes her lips and she shifts ever so slowly, finally opening her eyes and letting out a mental sigh of relief that she still had vision in both of them. Her gaze is blurry, disorientated, and it becomes foggy instead with tears of agony when she reaches her right hand up to press into her shoulder. The glove there, too, has burned away a bit, a few fingers of it missing, but most of it remained. 

Weiss swallows thickly, leaving her hand pressed against the wound for a moment, before pulling it away and blinking down at the blood. Her entire palm is covered in it now and she has the hysterical desire to plant it against the ground and leave her handprint there. A little mark of her in this horrible world. Her aura flutters weakly, cooling, but it’s so little of the care she actually needs for everything it virtually does nothing more but ease the pain by an imperceptible amount.

She tilts her gaze up, squinting her eyes, and making note of everything.

The force of the explosion had sent her past where Blake and Yang lay, a space between the two of them, and she can see Blake still trying to reach for her partner. She feels sorry for them too. Her eyes drift past them, far in the distance where Ruby is on the ground as well, the soles of her boots the only thing visible and smoke lifting through the air from her body.

Weiss… doesn’t know whether to feel relieved or horrified by what she just did.

She never in a million years has ever wanted to _hurt_ Ruby. And now, the world had given her no other choice.

(She questions if _t_ _his_ is what Salem has wanted all along. To watch them tear each other apart, to force them to kill each other so she doesn’t have to.)

(All Salem has ever desired most was to divide them. And now, she’s done it.)

She’s so tired. Everything, absolutely everything feels like she’s just one giant bruise now and it’s not just her body anymore. Her soul is withered and trembling, begging for rest, and she really wants to give it what it asks for. All of this seems so _pointless_ now.

She wants to get Ruby back- _Fuck_ does she want more than anything in this _world_ to get Ruby back. To hold her close and never let her go, to continue their travels of all of Remnant.

To tell Ruby she loved her.

And now, Weiss may not even get that chance, and that fact only adds to the list of hurt.

(Right beside _harming_ the one she loved.)

Fuck, she’s tired.

Weiss just wants to lay there, to curl into a ball and let the burns and the blood and the torture melt away. She wants to fly far, far away from here. To an entirely different world, even, because this world was far too ruined it demanded her to fix it.

She wants to disappear- and she wants to with the rest of her friends. Blake and Yang and Ruby the most.

Her little family.

The people who accepted her despite everything she put them through when they first met, the ones who encouraged her to become a better person and take the freedom that was rightfully hers as her own.

The _person_ she loves.

By some horrible, _horrible_ fate, where Ruby lays on the ground far ahead of them, smoke steaming off of her body from no doubt all of the damage she received from them…

Ruby starts to stand up.

And Weiss lets her head fall to the ground, squeezing her eyes shut and gritting her teeth through the pain.

They failed, and now they were all going to die.

Well…

At least then…

They’d finally be free from this life.

**...**

**_~:Watch me cry, all my tears:~_ **

**_…_ **

**:You feel…** _horrible_ **.**

**That is the best way to describe this emotion. The terrible things that bubble and pop in your chest like the crack of bullets and each one of them leave just as many holes in you.**

**You had been solely unprepared for what it would feel like to stand this close to them. You thought you had been ready,** _Salem_ **had thought you were ready too, and it strangely satisfies you and feels so overwhelmingly** _wrong_ **that Salem had been incorrect.**

**You weren’t ready to see them.**

**You weren’t ready to be this close to them.**

**Because the terrible feelings you had just observing them, watching them make progress to you, to** _save_ _you_ **, are doubled, tripled, a thousand times stronger when you’re this close to them.**

**The pain in your chest and the pain in your head and the pain in your** _everything_ **makes you want to keel over and die.**

**But you can’t.**

**Because Salem has given you a mission and you are her loyal subject.**

**She wanted you to fight them, so fight them you did.**

**Fight them you** _tried_ **.**

**Every swing feels like a betrayal, every step a failure. Yang’s voice had sparked something within you that you thought had been snuffed out and now, that little annoying light is burning just a tad brighter, just a tad stronger, and it** _hurts_ **.**

**(It hurts, it hurts so much, it hurts** _so fucking much_ **, it-)**

**So, you had to shut her up. And the look on her face as you sliced her away will forever haunt your dreams and nightmares both. (You feel sicker.)**

**(You feel like a monster.)**

**Blake, as she turns to run, ever loyal to Yang that one was- she had been a fair target. You were just as surprised as she probably was when she retaliated, and a part of you sighed in relief while the majority reeled in shock because see! See! They were trying to attack you too!**

_They_ **were your enemy.**

**The glowing glyph- and you don’t know what came over you then. You think Salem has a direct pull to you, tugging you along on strings, and you felt like throwing up the moment you released the aura slash that tore through the wall, tore open Blake’s back. (Her** _back_ **, she had been running away and was completely unprepared for an attack. And still, you attacked her anyway.)**

**And Weiss…**

**Weiss…**

**You screamed and you fought- hoping that, at the very least, she would understand you. She would see the little light and she would help. She would** _help_ **.**

**But your body moved without your permission and, the next thing you knew, your scythe was in her shoulder and suddenly- an explosion.**

**Your body is numb to feeling hurt, a perk of the blight you suppose, but while you can’t** _feel_ **the damage, that doesn’t mean you aren’t getting damaged. Despite Salem giving you power and darkness, your body is still only human. It can only stand so much abuse and harm and mistreatment before it gives up.**

**And it’s starting to give up. (You wish it’d give up faster.)**

**So, there, you lie flat on your back. Not wanting to move, your scythe somewhere below you on the ground.**

**Your eyes open and you look toward the sky of red.**

**You don’t want to be here anymore.**

**Being here, seeing them this close, hearing their voices… You try to convince yourself that they are the bad guys, that they are the ones who betrayed you, and thus, you need to get rid of them. You try to tell yourself you’re doing a good job, doing exactly as Salem wants but…**

**It’s not working.**

**Your words and Salem’s words and everything sounds like a flat lie. You don’t know what to believe anymore.**

**You want to run over and hug them and you want to run over and finish the job.**

**The contradictions are beginning to tear you apart, and you can’t help but wonder if it’s possible to split in two.**

**The one they are trying to save and the one you are now.**

**(You wonder which one is worth saving more. If one of them has to die for the other to live.)**

**The faster you try to get rid of them, the more it hurts.**

**The more you listen to their begs, their voices, their cries, the more it hurts.**

**No matter** _what_ **you do it hurts and you can feel Salem’s magic and corruption pulsing in your veins, tendrils seeping deeper, coiling around your heart-**

**You just want it all to be over now. You want them to get rid of you because Salem was never going to. She’d keep you alive. (Maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe this is who you are now.)**

**You can’t give up now.**

**She won’t let you.**

**Your body is not your own, and you don’t know why it’s taking you this long to understand that. You are a puppet and Salem is the one pulling the strings. She has** _always_ **been the one pulling the strings. She has always been the one making the rules of the game, the one making all the decisions-**

**The one always winning.**

**You are just another one of her pieces now. And she isn’t quite done playing with you yet.**

**So…**

**You stand up.:**

**_…_ **

Yang doesn’t know how much time has passed before she wakes up again.

Gasping in pain, she tries her best not to move because every subtle shift feels like the worst kind of torture so she stays completely still. She pants for air, opening her eyes and immediately turning them away when she sees her own blood pooled beneath her body. It turns her stomach, but at least now, it has slowed down and if she looks at her chest, down the front of her body where the gash has ripped her open, she can see that her aura has done a fair enough job closing the worst of it. It is still raw and red and bleeding, but it has calmed.

She tilts her gaze up, dizzy and disorientated, and it takes her a lot longer than it really should to notice that Ruby is on the ground too, a considerable distance away, with smoke leaving her form. And despite it all, despite being _attacked_ by her own _sister_ … she can’t help but worry about her.

Yang looks away, forces herself too, and her mouth goes dry with alarm, and her throat clenches and traps the whimper that had been trying to escape, seeing _Blake_ on the ground too. Her partner is just out of the corner of her eye, and though it is pure anguish moving, she pushes herself enough to see better.

Blake lays on her side, curled up, one hand reaching for her, but Yang can see her pressing a hand to her lips. She trembles all over and Yang just wants to go to her side and hold her because Blake is clearly crying alone over there. Her eyes drift and protective fury _blazes_ to life at the sight of a little puddle of blood at her back too. From where she is, Yang can’t see the full damage of it, but that wasn’t important. (Blake was _bleeding_ , Blake was bleeding and she had been uselessly unconscious while it happened.)

She can’t see Weiss, but her hearing has just now returned to her, along with the rest of her senses (so she can feel the complete damage now… swell), and she can hear gasps and whimpers coming from somewhere behind her and she hopes it’s Weiss. Honestly, she doesn’t think she can move anymore.

Her aura flares in agitation and Yang has to agree with it. This was unfair and it was starting to piss her off. They had come so far, worked so hard, only for them to fail?

Unacceptable.

She can feel her skin burning, blood running hot with her semblance. It is a heat that scorches her more than any other point in her life. And though she had been sporadically releasing the energy every now and then, what she had let out was nothing compared to the build-up of the entire night and now? Now, it has reached levels she didn’t even know was possible, and Yang is honestly a little afraid of what was going to happen when she releases it all.

(She wanted to save it for Salem or someone equally as aggravating, but right now, the only one she thinks she might be able to toss it on was her sister and that thought didn’t sit right with her.)

Her hands curl into tight fists and she releases a heavy, shaking breath, keeping her eyes on Blake for a moment longer before turning them ahead of her again. Ruby is starting to move, slowly but surely getting back up, and she is too far away to see whatever damage she had received from them.

Yang silently begs her to lay back down, to stop fighting already. But Ruby doesn’t listen, still moving, staggering to her feet, and Yang knows this is only going to continue now.

The fight wasn’t over.

She just had to get back up.

...She doesn’t move…

**_…_ **

Blake wants to disappear, to vanish like her shadows from this place and go back home; to the comforting beaches of Menagerie, to the warm embrace of her parents.

Lying here, in pain and bleeding and wanting to get closer to Yang but failing, their words and their song filter in and out of her mind.

They told her to be careful. They told her to return safe and sound.

She has people counting on her, after all. Not just them. Not just the people of Menagerie. Her friends needed her and in order for Blake to _be there_ for them, she had to take care of herself first.

(She asks herself how mad they would be at her for coming back- if she got out of here- with so many scars on her body.)

(She senses they would only ever be worried.)

For some reason, she dreams about how she has always wanted to bring her team to Menagerie. After reuniting with them, after she left and found the courage to return to them, she has always wished for the opportunity to show them her home. 

She can picture it now. Showing Ruby and Weiss and Yang her favorite places, spending a day exploring the village and the nearby jungles. A bonfire at the beach at night, hearing the ocean waves and watching the stars. A barbeque dinner and smores just for Ruby to munch on.

It’s a beautiful wish.

And now… it most definitely wasn’t going to come true.

Because, with the way things were going, she had the terrible sense that _someone_ was going to die. Maybe not to each other, if they managed to perform a miracle and stop Ruby, but even if they did, getting Ruby out through the portal and _fixing_ her of this corruption was a whole other ball game. Salem wouldn’t let them leave.

They were always doomed to fail.

This was their destiny.

To fall in a grand final battle of a war they had no chance of winning in the first place.

(She almost regrets ever deciding to become a huntress if this is how it was going to end.)

(But then again… _almost_. Even knowing the end and all their pain and torments, Blake thinks that if they could go back in time and she had the chance to pick this route or go a different way… she’d walk down this path again.)

Her hand outstretched before her balls into a fist, the other one moving away from where she had covered her mouth and sobbed her pain against it back down to the sheath of Gambol Shroud. 

_Sorry mom, sorry dad._

_I don’t think I’ll be coming home again._

But if this is where she was meant to die, if this was where their story ended, then Blake was going to give it her all until the very end.

She inhales slowly, gritting her teeth as she forces- _demands_ her body to move and it finally listens. Lifting her head again, it almost falls right back down with a sob of relief because _Yang is alive_.

She’s alive, she’s alive and Blake can finally breathe again. (Well, kind of, breathing is still torturous.)

Yang wasn’t looking toward her though, head tilted up from the ground and those captivating purple eyes focused ahead of them. _She’s alive, she’s alive_. Looking toward Ruby, because a glance behind them and Blake can see Weiss on the ground too and knows she lost her match as well.

Blake looks to Ruby. The girl, cloak burned at the edges and ruined even more, is slowly standing up, stumbling to her feet and trying to catch her balance and it’s not too hard to guess what happened to her- considering Weiss’s specialty of dust manipulation. 

Still, as damaged as she was now more than when she arrived… Ruby stands, catching her feet and panting for a moment.

She was reaching her limits too.

The end of their story was getting near and Blake can almost taste it on her tongue.

(It tastes like defeat and failure.)

Still, Ruby stands, and that’s more than Blake can say for the three of them. She stands and she stumbles forward a step, swaying in place and practically falling back down completely- but she catches herself, a grunt escaping her lips and a hand lifting lazily to her temple. She shakes her head and keeps moving, limping her way to where Crescent Rose lays stained with blood and melted in some places.

The fight wasn’t over yet.

And Blake had vowed to give it her all, so…

She takes in a breath, two. Her grip on her weapon going ever tighter.

...But she can’t bring herself to stand up.

(And that feels like defeat and failure too.)

**_…_ **

Weiss feels just as much overwhelming relief as she does crippling guilt when she lets out a relaxing breath when Ruby finally stands up. Guilt, because Ruby was technically their enemy right now and Weiss shouldn’t be worried about her well-being. Relief, because she can’t stand the thought of hurting Ruby enough to the point where her partner couldn’t even stand.

But, she does, and Weiss has the reprieving moment of relief and guilt before the dread kicks in.

Because _Ruby stands up_. She gets to her feet and she begins to stagger forward, teetering off-balance and there’s one point where she has to catch herself on her hand to keep from face-planting. But she’s okay, for the most part.

Her cloak and her clothes, at the middle of her abdomen where the ball of fire had been placed against, are burned and ruined even more and Weiss feels guilty for that too.

Weiss swallows down the bile. Her shoulder hasn’t stopped bleeding and she can’t entirely feel her left arm anymore. (She had gathered enough courage to look at it, and as far as burn injuries go, she _assumes_ it doesn’t look too bad. Then again, she wasn’t really an expert on that.)

Ruby was walking toward them again, and Weiss had little doubt that it was to finish the job. Her partner’s body twitches, a little unnaturally at times, and she jerks her head a bit and stops for a moment, grasping her head with both of her hands and gritting her teeth, blood-speckled face twisted in pain. She thinks Ruby would let out a yell if she had the air too.

Weiss wants to call out to her, but at this point, she doesn’t even know what she could say anymore. Promises felt empty, confessions felt fake, threats felt entirely too wrong. There was nothing she could say anymore because Ruby had been done listening long ago and she only just now realized it. (If she focuses hard enough, she thinks she can see Salem’s form hovering over her partner’s shoulder, covering Ruby’s ears with her hands.)

Ruby reaches her weapon then, bending down with a groan and finding just enough strength to lift the spine into her hands. The heavy blade remains on the ground, too much for her to carry right now. She pants raggedly, her head bowed and shoulders moving with each inhale and exhale.

When their eyes meet, Weiss can’t even feel her heart break even more.

(She doesn’t know if it’s a good thing or a horrible thing that she’s somehow getting _used_ to those eyes now. That she expects to see them.)

(She thinks she might be forgetting what Ruby’s eyes looked like before this.)

Again, Ruby hesitates, and again, without fail, Weiss _hopes_ and it fucking aggravates her that she can still hope in a situation like this. She wonders how far down this hope will take her once it inevitably crashes.

Her partner looks between the three of them on the ground as if waiting for one of them to get up first, but when none of them do, Ruby shivers again- face morphing into what could be a whimper- before she starts walking. The scythe drags heavily behind her, slowing her down, but it doesn’t even matter because Blake and Weiss and Yang can’t find the will to move.

Weiss lowers her head then, forehead pressing against the ground and the burn there smarting a bit from the pressure. Her hand moves away from her wounded shoulder, pressing against the dirt as well beneath her. Both of her hands ball into fists, Mrytenaster left abandoned right beside her palm and it should be the easiest thing to do to pick it up. But it seems impossible.

Her teeth grit and she just barely restrains herself from bawling.

The sound of Crescent Rose dragging against the ground is loud against the backdrop echoes of the Grimm and their allies (both of which have gotten even farther away from them).

Weiss lays there, tired and wounded and hopeless, and it feels like defeat.

She’s forgotten what victory feels like- and at this rate…

She was going to die before she ever felt it again.

**_…_ **

They don’t want to fight.

Not Yang, who looks at the cloaked girl and only sees her little sister still.

Not Blake, who sees her closest friend struggling to move and knows it was going to end soon.

Not Weiss, who watches her partner and the one she adored fall deeper and deeper into the shadows that engulf her and she wishes for just a _glimpse_ of shining silver.

(Not even Ruby- _their_ Ruby. Who sees it all happening through wicked eyes and is unable to do anything. Whose light flickers and grows smaller and smaller with the threat of vanishing altogether.)

None of them want to fight.

But it was obvious that… They had no other choice.

This was their destiny. The lines of fate intertwining four separate souls to one single path. One inevitable outcome. One tragic conclusion.

They were not fated to have a fairy tale finish. They were not meant for a happy ending.

And because of that, for a moment, not a single one of them truly even knows what was worth fighting for anymore. Giving up seemed like the best option. The one with the least amount of pain.

The easiest choice.

...Unbidden, an image flashes in their minds collectively. (They would not learn until later they had seen the same thing.) 

A warning not to give up. A reprimand from the Gods who watch over all.

A reminder.

A reminder of what they still had yet to fight for.

All of them stand there, in a simpler time- in a different life altogether it seems. The sisters with their arms over partners who regard them with equal measures of fondness and exasperation. Smiles of varying sizes across all four of them, eyes shining bright with joy and elation. 

Friends.

Teammates.

Family.

Happy. Healthy. Together.

Team RWBY.

_That_ is what they fight for.

_That_ is what they challenge fate for.

They will all be together again. That was certain.

Whether in life or death… Well…

Only time will tell.


	6. Bridge/Dubstep Sequence 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhh! We're almost at the end everybody. Fun fact: this chapter and this part of the song is what started it all. And then I went out of control with everything else. I hope you guys enjoy it, we're almost to the end y'all. :) I'm also not a Japanese speaker, I got the lyrics for this part off of google, so if you know the correct spelling for them, do let me know and I'll see if I can fix it.

_The crisp night air could not breach the bubble of jovial warmth that radiates from the four of them._

_Stars twinkle far above the buildings of Vale, post lights paving the way through the twilight park they decided to walk through one last time before heading toward the airships and calling it a day. And what a day it had been indeed, full of laughter and fun and relaxation unlike any of them had known for quite a while._

_A traveling carnival had decided to stop by the city of Vale, the students of Beacon flocking to it like moths to a flame, and Team RWBY had been no different. Taking advantage of the weekend for once instead of using it to study, as one certain heiress was prone to forcing the others to do, they had all put on their most comfortable shoes and left early in the morning._

_Now, late into the evening, none of them wanted it to end._

_After the stressfulness of trying to find and stop Roman Torchwick, the aftermath of Mountain Glenn, and the future of the tournament looming over them, it was safe to say they all needed a_ day _to relax. And relax they had._

_Carnival rides, sugary snacks, a play and performances, games, prizes, fun fun fun._

_“You know, I kinda like this tattoo,” Yang muses, glancing down at the temporary art that trailed from the center of the palm of her right hand up to the inside of that elbow. A serpentine dragon breathing fire, the tips of the flames coiling to the base of her fingers. A cheeky grin pulls at her lips, purple eyes gleaming with mischief as she elbows her sister beside her. “Hey, you wanna prank dad? We can show him your fake piercing too.”_

_Ruby, who was solely unprepared for the limb jabbing into her side, stumbles in her place before catching herself, her head tipping back in laughter. A fake lip ring that Yang had said would make her look_ fierce _sat pretty on her lower lip as she grinned. “He’d actually have a heart attack.”_

 _“Which is_ why _we should pose for the camera. Blake?” Yang stops, pulling out her scroll and extending it in her partner’s direction with a wicked smile, a silent plea in her eyes. “Would you care to do the honors?”_

_“You guys are terrible,” Blake chuckles but relents anyway, expertly snatching the device as if she had done it countless times before. (Which wasn’t too far from the truth. Sometimes Yang would take pictures of her more embarrassing moments and Blake would have to take it from her.)(Yang always deleted the pictures afterward anyway, but it had become a little game between the two.) “Go to the post light, it’s dark.”_

_“How would you know, Ms. I-have-night-vision?” Yang snickers, walking backward to keep her gaze on Blake, following after where Ruby was already skipping to the next pole. Blake, the epitome of maturity of course, simply stuck out her tongue in response._

_“Weiss, candy me up!” Ruby stops by the post light, turning in her own partner’s direction and extending both hands out, making a grabby-motion with her fingers. Weiss, who had been ‘in-charge’ of the multiple bags of candy they had bought collectively so Ruby wouldn’t gorge herself with them all even before reaching Beacon, brings a hand to pinch the bridge of her nose but walks over anyway._

_“I already told you to stop saying it like that,” the heiress huffs, sifting through the bag that held all the other bags and glancing up at Ruby- who was waiting patiently with her hands outstretched. “Caramels or chocolate raisins?”_

_“Both?” Ruby gave her the best puppy-dog look she could muster, a sheepish and hopeful grin to her lips._

_Weiss just gave her a deadpan look in return. When it became obvious she wouldn’t budge, Ruby pouts and scuffs the ground with her shoe._

_“Caramels.” The girl with the cloak- Weiss and Blake had quickly learned Ruby would not go out anywhere without it on her shoulders- grumbles, her pout quickly disappearing though when Weiss presented her with the bag of hard candies. She let out a sound of delight before quickly popping a small handful in her mouth, speaking regardless, “The puppy look always works, why didn’t it work this time? Have you become immune?”_

_“Don’t speak with your mouth full,” Weiss huffs with no real heat in her words, crossing her arms as if to protect the rest of the candy from her sweet-toothed partner and stepping over to stand beside Blake and out of shot of the camera._

_“I think it’s the piercing,” Yang saddles up to her sister’s side, throwing an arm over her shoulder and reaching over with the other, tapping at said jewelry with a finger. “It negates your natural cuteness, sis.”_

_“The sacrifices I make to look cool!” Ruby, after crunching away the caramels and swallowing the shards quickly, places a hand forlornly to her chest, wiping away at a fake tear and sniffling._

_“Alright_ rebels _,” Blake’s lips twitch with a hidden smile, a playful gleam in her eyes as she lifts the scroll. “Let’s make this quick before it gets any darker.”_

_“But you can see in the dark.”_

_“That is true. It’s also true that the airships have a curfew and we’ll be stuck in Vale if we don’t hurry,” Blake reminds them all, with a bit of reluctance, that their night was drawing to a close despite how much they didn’t want it to. “I’d rather sleep in my own bed than a hotel.”_

_“Weiss is rich, she can get us into a really fancy one.”_

_“Excuse me, I did not say anything of that sort,” Weiss wrinkles her nose a little and Yang snorts, giving that usual charming grin of hers._

_“Come on~ Don’t you love us, Ice Queen?”_

_“I’ll get rooms for the three of us and you can sleep in the alley.”_

_“Jokes on you, I’ll just bunk with Blake.”_

_“I didn’t agree to that,” Blake pitched in, absentmindedly looking through the filters since it was obvious the picture wouldn’t be taken yet. A gentle curl remains on her lips, laughter shining in her eyes when she glances up and sees an overdramatic pout to Yang’s face._

_“Betrayal!” Yang wails, leaning more of her weight onto her sister, and Ruby damn near toppled over from not being given a warning. Silver eyes widened and she let out a quiet grunt. “Sis, you’ll let me bunk with you, right?”_

_“I mean-”_

_“If you say yes, no candy for you,” Weiss chips in, peeking over Blake’s shoulder to look through the filters as well._

_“Sorry Yang, you’re on your own.”_

_“Oh, so_ that’s _how it is you little-” Yang, using the arm that had been around Ruby’s shoulder already to her advantage, brought her into a headlock and began rubbing her knuckles into the top of her head. Ruby, immediately and predictably, screeched and began trying to escape her grip. “Betraying your own sister over sweets!”_

_“The sweets don’t give me noogies!”_

_Besides Ruby’s yowling and Yang’s lecturing, laughter bubbles between the two of them and it is contagious, drifting over to their partners. Blake and Weiss watch with fond eyes and exasperated shakes of their heads, gold meeting blue for a moment before Blake’s thumb swiped against the scroll and she began to record the little wrestling match that had begun between the two._

_Yang has always been the stronger of the two, and while Ruby could have just as easily used her semblance to get out of that tight hold, she chose the harder route of trying to struggle against it. She attacks Yang with her own fingers, driving them into her sister’s stomach and tickling her._

_Yang quickly calls a truce after that, bouncing away from Ruby’s wriggling fingers and placing her hands on her knees, hunched over slightly and panting for air, laughter still spilling from her chest despite how breathless she was. Ruby wasn’t faring any better, copying her stance, shoulders shaking from her giggles._

_“Are you done?” Weiss calls to them, voice strained with hidden amusement even as a smile pulled at her lips. “Didn’t you want a picture?”_

_“Give me a sec, I feel like Imma throw up,” Ruby lifts one finger in her direction, finally being able to catch her breath. “The caramels aren’t agreeing with me.”_

_“Probably doesn’t help that you were laughing so much,” Blake snickers, ending the video and saving it before going back to the camera. “Now, come on. Don’t you have a heart attack to give your dad?”_

_“Of course! How could I forget?” Yang stands up straight, adjusting her ruffled clothing with the grin remaining on her face before she stepped right back over to Ruby, patting her in the back. “I’ll call that one a draw.”_

_“‘A draw’ my butt, I would’ve won,” Ruby scoffs, but links her arm around her sister’s back regardless, leaning into Yang’s side and getting the last of her giggles out. Yang, as before, wrapped her arm around Ruby’s shoulder, the two turning to face the camera. “Smiles?”_

_“Nah, give your best glare to the camera, Ruby. Remember,_ fierce _,” Yang kept her eyes on her sister and just about dissolved right back into another laughing fit at Ruby’s attempt. “Aww, you look cute.”_

_“Wh- No, I don't!” Ruby smacks her sister in the stomach, wanting to cross her arms but being unable to. By the looks on Blake and Weiss’s faces though, the two valiantly trying to hide their own laughter again and mostly failing, she was getting the sense that Yang had been right. “Argh, whatever.”_

_“It’s part of your charm,” Yang pats her sister’s head consolingly, ruffling her hair even more before clearing her throat. Lifting her eyes to Blake and the camera, she gave a slight thumbs-up with her free hand, positioning herself in such a way as to extend her temporarily tattooed arm toward them, showing off the artwork. “On your mark, Blake.”_

_“Alright, give me your toughest looks in three, two, one…”_

_And for all they made fun of Ruby for her apparent inability to look intimidating, she actually pulls off quite the expression. Yang’s winning grin shifts to something sharper, a smirk hidden just behind the guise and a hint of something dangerous in eyes that flash red for that moment. Her tattooed hand is extending, fingers curled just the slightest bit as if beckoning an enemy closer for her to rip apart- her other hand balled up and fist-bumping Ruby’s free hand between them. The cloaked girl gave quite the glower, eyes narrowing and a spark of steel within silver, a single brow slightly raising and head cocking just the slightest bit, free hand meeting Yang’s fist-bump._

_Blake takes an absentminded amount of pictures before telling them to mix it up, and both her and Weiss immediately burst out laughing when the sisters put on their silliest expressions full of crossed eyes and tongues sticking out. Giggles reverberate between them all as Yang and Ruby strike the most ridiculous of poses (at one point, Ruby had been lifted into the air, while in the next, she damn near collapsed as Yang jumped onto her back)._

_“Send them to me too, Yang,” Ruby says after they have completed their impromptu photoshoot, stretching lightly and rotating her upper body to crack her spine. She wriggled her limbs after, hopping in place for a moment and rolling her shoulder, “Geesh, did you have to jump on me like that?”_

_“You do it to me all the time,” Yang responds after sending a thumbs-up, sending it to all of their group chat first._

_“Yeah but I don’t weigh a ton like you!”_

_“I think she just called you fat, Yang,” Blake, the little instigator that she was, riding the high of the playful energy buzzing between them all, saddles up beside her partner, bumping the side of her hip into Yang’s and smiling._

_Yang, predictably, scoffs in response before jokingly flexing one of her arms, “This is all muscle. Rubes is just jealous.”_

_“Hey, all I’m saying is that some of us don’t need to be bodybuilders because we have_ actual _weapons to fight with besides our fists,” Ruby speaks in a teasing tone, standing beside Weiss and beaming when her partner wordlessly handed over the bag of caramels again._

_“Okay, don’t insult Ember Celica, or I might actually have to fight you,” Yang glances up, a taunting gleam entering her eyes. “And we both know who’d win that.”_

_Before Ruby could retaliate with her own jibe, Weiss- as reluctant as she seems to be, surprisingly so- lets out a tempered sigh before declaring, “Alright, if the children are done playing. We do have somewhere to be, remember?”_

_“I thought you agreed to buy us rooms?”_

_“I never agreed to anything,” Weiss utters with a slight wrinkle of her nose. Blake had taken the lead down the path they were already going, the heiress following her after a moment with Ruby and Yang scrambling to catch up to their respective partners until they were all relatively in a line._

_Amicable silence filled the space, an astonishingly peaceful thing considering all the noise that was usually associated with the likes of Ruby and Yang. But if Weiss and Blake had learned anything, it was that the sisters_ knew _when to be quiet. Had come to enjoy it, probably more than they usually did, considering their calmer partners, and it was a surreal thing to think about- the effect they had on their partners respectively._

_The world grew darker as the night drew on, slight haste in their steps now considering the time, and it was almost sad to think the energy was slowly starting to fade away. It had been so long since Blake and Weiss- well, any of them for that matter- had just spent an entire day doing nothing but relaxing and having fun with the people they had grown so fond of._

_It was a curious thing, having a partner you could count on. A person who was quickly growing into more than just a best friend, the one person each of them could rely on in turn._

_It was disheartening to think that one day, all of this was going to end._

_All of this laughter and warmth and fun and love love love…_

_Perhaps it is with this thought that Ruby felt the need to talk once again._

_“Hey,” the cloaked girl murmurs, immediately catching the attention of the other three, who looks at her with just the barest hint of worry in their eyes. Weiss, by her side, holds the start of a frown to her lips. A troubled expression was on Ruby’s face, her voice coming out… not exactly in the cadence that she usually spoke with. Beneath the attention of three pairs of eyes, Ruby seems to startle to attention, turning a bit sheepish. “Ah, sorry.”_

_“What’s on your mind, sis?” Yang asks first, completely disregarding the unnecessary apology and struggling to keep the panic off of her face. Big sister instincts flared to life seeing such a… melancholic look on Ruby’s face, and she just wanted it gone._

_“It’s… silly.”_

_“That hasn’t stopped you from speaking before,” Weiss, ever so eloquent, scoffs and Ruby, despite it all, lets out a small snort in response, the hint of a weak smile now pulling at her lips. They keep moving, walking slower than before and keeping their attention on their leader. When it doesn’t look like Ruby is going to speak anymore, Weiss hesitates for a moment before committing, reaching out and brushing her fingers against her partner’s arm and only speaking when silver meets blue. “Don’t let it stop you now. Tell us?”_

Tell me _? Ruby interprets it as and she lets out a quiet huff at that, emotions swelling within her chest uncomfortably and she has to look away from Weiss’s gaze before it becomes too much. Her eyes find the other two and she grimaces a bit, knowing there was no way out of it now._

_“I was just thinking about… Well… Today was a lot of fun, wasn’t it?”_

_“Probably the most fun we’ve had in a while,” Blake speaks for the three of them, sharing a look with Yang and sending a soft smile her way before turning her head back in Ruby’s direction. “Did you not enjoy it?”_

_“No, no! I did, I-” Ruby let out a sound that was close to a whine, running a hand through her hair and releasing a strangled sigh before her entire demeanor seemed to drop. Shy and reluctant, she admits, “I really liked it. I’m just… I don’t know how many more days we have like that, is all.”_

_“Ruby?” This time, they all come to a collective stop, Yang turning entirely to face her and about to walk over to comfort her sister in the best way she knew how- with a tight hug that fit all the pieces back together. (She had an idea what this was about…)_

_“I know this has to come to an end at one point,” Ruby says even as Yang steps closer to her, hands balling into fists at her sides. When her eyes lift, looking with a sense of desperation between the three of them, her voice grows a little tighter. “But is it so terrible to imagine what it would be like if we all just… stayed together? Travel all of Remnant and explore and kick some Grimm butt and help people along the way?”_

_Her question, though said to all of them, was mostly directed to Blake and Weiss. Yang, as she had said multiple times before, she knew would always be beside her. Where Ruby went, so did Yang, and where Yang went, so did Ruby. They were sisters._

_But now, Ruby’s little circle has expanded, her world growing to more than just ‘big sister Yang’ and including these two people specifically. Blake- who was her book buddy and teacher and teammate and_ friend _. Weiss- who was… her_ partner _. (She wonders when all of her emotions for how important a person was to her could be packed into one little word: partner. Not just friend, but so, so much more.)_

_Blake and Weiss observe her with solemn eyes. As if sensing these musings were only for them, blue sought out gold, and equal frowns pulled at their lips. Guilty, almost._

_Blake didn’t know what a future after Beacon looked like. Perhaps she’d finally feel brave enough to return home to Menagerie, to make things right. Or maybe she’d be strong enough to face Adam again, to defeat him and take back and restore the White Fang to what it was meant to be._

_Weiss knew what her future held for her. It had always been set in stone, coming here to train was just a slight detour from it, but she still walks the path her father put before her. One day, the SDC would be hers, and she would be there, running the company and doing her darndest to make things better._

_But the idea of sticking together, the idea of_ Team RWBY _… Well…_

_It made them reconsider._

_It made them conflicted._

_Because the idea of togetherness and staying with these two people that had dropped into their lives was nice, but… That’s all it could ever be, really._

_Just an idea. Nice in theory._

_Ruby, perhaps seeing their expressions and not liking how the peaceful silence had been morphed into something sour, winces before shaking her head, running another frustrated hand through her hair before blowing out a heavy sigh._

_“Sorry, I didn’t mean to… That’s not what I- Argh! Okay,_ listen _.”_

_All but throwing her hands up in the air, Ruby maneuvers around her sister, who tries to reach for her but fails, stepping ahead of them and turning to face all three. For a moment, they stand in opposition- the girl with the cloak taking a moment to breathe and the other three giving her that time. Weiss and Blake and Yang all step a little closer, Yang in the middle and the others in arm's length of her._

_Ruby takes half a second to draw in a breath before spreading her arms out to encompass them all. An encouraging smile that held the slightest hints of lingering sadness blossoms on her face as she speaks._

_“Where I was trying to go with this is that… We may not know what the future has in store for us… but we should all remember that no matter what- We are Team RWBY.” Her smile grows just a little wider then, a little more meaningful and real, and some of the pain of her own thoughts lessens. “One big family, a unit that will always have each other’s backs.”_

_She pauses for a minute before her arms lower slightly, shoulders lifting in a shrug that could have been casual if it wasn’t so stiff. Her voice, too, takes on a tone that was meant to be easygoing, but it falls flat._

_“And hey… If we are separated at one point, well… We will always find our way back to each other if we ever need to.” Ruby swallowed thickly, adding a little unsurely, hesitantly, “Right?”_

_Weiss, Blake, and Yang can do nothing more but stare for a moment, letting the question hang in the air and settle into their minds. They take a second to think, to truly think about what a future where they all stayed together would be like._

_It seems like a dream come true. A fairy tale. A fantasy._

_And they all hope, unknowingly, for it to become their reality._

_Yang, her smile soft and heart aching for her sister, takes in a deep breath before standing taller, putting on some of her grandiose before grinning widely. She sends a playful, reassuring wink to Ruby before glancing slightly at the other two, her grin taking on a wicked curl before she- without warning- threw her arms around both of their shoulders, drawing them in close to her._

_Blake lets out an adorable little squeak at the sudden contact and Weiss, predictably, immediately starts to try and get out of it and fails._

_“_ Obviously _,” Yang says, ignoring Weiss’s thrashing and grinning down at both of their partners. Her voice takes a teasing turn, “Whenever you need us, we’ll come racing toward you. Like it or not you two, you’re kinda stuck with us for life. ”_

_“Woe is me,” Blake, after breaking out of her initial shock, murmurs with a playful smirk to her lips- right at the same time Weiss grumbles, “What torture.”_

_Yang immediately pouts upon hearing those responses, an entirely overdramatic thing that draws laughter from the rest of them, and Weiss finally succeeds in squeezing herself out of her friend’s grip. She lets out a huff, vainly brushing off her clothes before straightening up, immediately moving closer to her partner who regards them all with a gentle smile._

_When their eyes meet, Weiss feels as though she makes a promise that Ruby returns:_ I will always be there when you need me _. (Weiss just didn’t know if there would come a moment she could admit she’d need Ruby all the time.)_

_Behind her, Blake makes no move to try and break out of Yang’s grip, merely adjusting herself without a word to a more comfortable position beside the radiating warmth of her partner. Yang glances down at her, the unseen smile becoming that much softer, aura fluttering minutely to only make herself warmer and she can feel Blake let out a quiet hum of appreciation._

_Together, the two walk forward, Yang casually having her arm around Blake and Blake making no move to take it off or showing any sign of leaving._

_“You’re right, Ruby,” Weiss says once they’re all in a little huddle again, giving her partner a reassuring smile that makes her beam in elation. She thinks she sees the start of grateful tears in those eyes, and Weiss wishes she had her scroll out to take a picture of the way Ruby smiles at her. Before she can give into temptation, blue drifts over to the other two people of her found family. “We stick together.”_

_Yang meets her gaze before glancing at Ruby, silver catching purple and the older of the two grins. There is no doubt the conversation they had previously was bouncing in both of their minds at the moment, comforted by the words and reassurances of their partners who were making the promise to- at the very least- stay in touch with one another long after Beacon._

_“One big family,” Yang nods firmly, her eyes lowering down to her partner at her side and they go a little wide upon catching the way Blake looks at her. All unabashed fondness and the kindling of adoration. She expects Blake to look away, but she doesn’t, holding a purple gaze head-on and refusing to escape._

_(She thinks Blake is trying to tell her something without speaking, and though Yang doesn’t completely understand what it is, a part of her inherently appreciates it anyway. And returns the unsaid sentiments.)_

_Alas, gold finally leaves her and Yang struggles to draw in a breath, but a part of her doesn’t entirely mind that._

_Blake looks over to Ruby and Weiss, gaze lingering on the former for longer, a hidden curl to her lips as she finishes the words they bounced off each other._

_“And we will always find our way back to each other…”_

**_…_ **

**_~: 危ない, 危ない, 危な-危ない, 危ない, 危な-危ない:~_ **

Ruby’s steps are haggard, and Yang waits for a second longer, just begging, hoping, bargaining with the world that her sister would collapse now and they could be done with it.

But, no...

Ruby keeps moving, Crescent Rose leaving behind a deep groove in the ground, and with each approaching step, Yang feels her hope rip apart even more and it hurts worse than the gash on the front of her body does. The wound still bleeds, and Yang has long since forgotten to pay attention to the feeling of her own blood dripping out of her body where it wasn’t supposed to go.

Her fist trembles with the force she clenches it with, eyes lowering from her sister- slowly but surely closing in on them- to the pool of blood beneath her.

Yang grits her teeth and her semblance burns within her, running through her veins with the ferocity of rage and energizing her more than adrenaline ever could. It wants to burn, her semblance wants to burn, _Yang_ wants to burn.

There was no way around this.

She had hoped and wished and prayed that there would be, that they could get through to Ruby without having to fight her. Some part of her, still refusing to accept the truth even though it had been rudely shoved in her direction (even though _truth_ had sliced her with a crimson scythe and tried to kill her), still wishes and still hopes and _still_ prays.

They could get through to Ruby, they just had to talk to her!

...But Ruby wasn’t listening, and Yang had to put that part of her down as gently as she could because _Ruby wasn’t listening_. There was no getting through to her with words, no way of talking sense into her because Salem had made her senseless.

In order to save Ruby- from this darkness, from Salem, from herself- they had to stop her.

“ _I always got your back sis!_ ” Ruby had said to Yang once, repeating her own words back to her.

Now, it was about fucking time Yang had hers.

Her eyes drift shut, and there in the darkness of her closed lids, gold blossomed to life like a bonfire. Her aura manifested, a wildfire around her form, coiling and twisting and writhing around her body, begging for release. It snapped and crackled and roared, a beast chained and trying to break loose, and Yang was about to give it freedom.

With a shaking hand, she reaches for it, and the reaction is instantaneous.

Ruby’s metronome steps suddenly come to a halt and Yang doesn’t have to open her eyes to know that she stopped.

Her sister stopped because even though Yang doesn’t look at herself, she _knows_ that there is steam slowly starting to coil off of her body, her shoulders and back. She keeps her eyes closed, gold dancing and rejoicing at being given the privilege to wreak havoc across her vision, and Yang keeps her jaw clenched because the control it takes to _contain_ it instead of releasing it all at once is damn near overwhelming.

By some form of miracle, she relents, and she hardly winces as her body temperature begins to skyrocket, increasing and increasing and increasing.

A faint sizzling sound begins to fill her ears and it’s such a strange sensation, feeling pain but… not exactly feeling it? Her semblance turns agony into power, torture into energy, and the sensation of the open gash beginning to cauterize because of her burning semblance is a fuel that makes gold _blaze_.

Yang releases a rippling breath, smoke escaping her open mouth, and she begins to move. Slowly, agonizingly, she presses her hands into the ground, ignoring the feeling of her blood staining her fingers and wetting the palm of her glove, and she begins to push herself up. Power surges through her and she starts to feel lighter, starts to feel _above_ all of this pain and agony, and her body shudders with the tension she restrains herself with.

Everything feels like it’s on a hair-trigger, and she doesn’t entirely know why she isn’t just letting it run free and going berserk.

(No… Wait… She does know why.

Just one more.

Just one more chance for Ruby to give in.)

Despite the newness to restraining her semblance like this, it is surprisingly easy. 

Her father had always said her semblance relied heavily on her emotions. While it didn’t control it _completely_ , it did have some sway in her powers.

Right now, she didn’t really want to destroy whatever was in her way… What she wanted most was to _save Ruby_. And perhaps her semblance understood that, giving her this control despite how much it wanted to run wild and reckless.

Yang puts one foot against the ground, finding her balance quickly before its twin joins it and she starts to stand. The aches and the pains linger just outside of her senses, inconsequential. ( _Oh,_ if she could feel them, they would make her collapse all over again.) Her spine uncurls slowly as she straightens her back, the bones cracking, and she wonders if it was possible for it to break right now.

It wouldn’t, obviously not, because her semblance was virtually stitching her back together with nothing but sheer heat.

Her eyes remain close the entire time, arms extended in her mind’s eye to welcome in the burning inferno of gold, and the image of the four of them together sits at the forefront of her vision, guiding her. She clings to it desperately, the smiling faces and fond expressions. The laughs and tears and jokes.

The warmth, the joy, the love.

 _That_ is what she fights for. _That_ is what she has always fought for- a family who wouldn’t leave her side.

Nobody was going to take that away from her.

Not Salem. Not the Grimm.

Not even Ruby.

The world is quiet, holding its breath, only the sound of quiet hissing filling the air.

And when Yang opens her eyes, they’re not immediately red. Surprisingly enough, they’re purple, meeting Ruby’s _wrong_ gaze. Her sister stands a short distance away, body slouched and the grip with which she holds Crescent Rose is incredibly weak and waning. But she’s still there, she’s still there and it looks like she has no choice but to continue fighting.

Purple meets red and black and Yang pretends that they’re silver instead.

A deep-seated frown sits on her face, and when she narrows her eyes, Ruby seems to tremble slightly before baring her teeth in her direction. Yang holds that frightening gaze, unwavering, refusing to give up, to give in.

 _Back down_ , her entire demeanor- an unflinching stance and determined glare- seems to demand.

One final chance. One last plea. 

An ultimatum.

( _T_ _he end is here._ )

Ruby doesn’t take it. Her stance stiffens in place, somehow finding the energy to steady her grip on her weapon, raising it just the slightest bit higher. Wisps of something shadowy leach off of her body like the smoke that coils off of Yang’s.

Yang releases a breath, a heartbroken sigh.

_Fine._

There- out from the pupil, like ink dropped into a pool of water, like blood dripping from an open wound, red starts to seep into the purple. Anger and pain and resolve escapes from the crevices of her soul and are placed on display there on her face. The color is light at first, staining amethyst until it is completely gone, and it only grows darker and darker until it reflects the shade that lays in a puddle at her feet.

 _See?_ She almost feels like saying all of a sudden, taunting, _My eyes can be red too._

With her next breath, steam billows like a cloud, obscuring her features for a second until only the gleam of her eyes remain through the fog, and Yang stands taller. From the roots of her hair, a sweltering fire erupts, stretching all the way down to the tips of her mane. It _burns_ , but Yang doesn’t react to it; not even when some of the more rambunctious embers begin to coil and spark down her arms, to the tips of her fingers, around her shoulders. The wound cauterizes even faster as a result, the blaze brightening, and when Yang inhales, she breathes in the fire.

It makes her feel _alive_ , and her entire body quakes with the sensation.

Something feels different about it, though she can’t entirely tell what it is. This new level of her semblance, of her fire, of _her_ … it seems to frighten Ruby because her sister sees this happening and takes a step back before realizing what she’s done. 

(Out of the corner of her eye, she thinks she can see _something_. A subtle light, a golden-white glow that outlines her entire body, burning with a white-hot heat. She ignores it, her eyes only for Ruby and Ruby alone.)

She feels invincible.

And she was going to get Ruby back…

Or tear the fucking world apart trying.

**_…_ **

**_~: 危ない, 危ない, 危な-危ない, 危ない, 危な-危ない:~_ **

Blake envisions them all together again.

There, on the beaches of Menagerie, just relaxing on the sand and having fun. Ruby and Yang tumble through the waves, trying to see who could swim out the farthest and then forgetting that’s what the contest was before beginning to splash at one another. Weiss and her watch their more energetic partners, enjoying the sun and the breeze and the sounds of the ocean and the laughing sisters.

It makes her _want_.

She has never allowed herself to want things before- because she was never brave enough to truly try and get it. (The only thing she had been brave enough to do was to leave Adam, and even still, it never felt like a complete victory until he was dead because she always lived in fear as a result of it- constantly looking over her shoulders and not wanting to get too attached to others.)

But this image, these thoughts, that future; she desires it more than anything else.

And what she wants, she was going to try her fucking hardest to get.

Blake is there, curled on her side, keeping her eyes on her partner, and she and Ruby are the first to notice the smoke. The sight of it thrills her for a reason unbeknownst, ears perking to attention, and she can just barely catch the vaguest sound of something sizzling. 

And then, Yang starts to move, arduously slow but moving nonetheless, and the sight of her partner _getting back up_ gives a determination of its own. A sigh of relief escapes her, the flaring wound of anxiety on her very heart beginning to soothe down because Yang was okay now. She was okay.

She was okay, and she was getting back up to fight.

Blake huffs out a little breath, both amused and akin to a groan, admittedly jealous of Yang’s ability to keep going no matter how damaged she was. Because right now, despite how much Blake wants to get back up seeing her partner doing just that, everything still _hurts_. Violently so, every subtle twitch of her muscles and shift of her clothes _tugs_ at the open wound across her back and she thinks she sees stars with every blink.

But _Y_ _ang was getting back up_. Yang was going to fight again.

And if Yang was going to fight, then Blake was going to be right by her side as well.

They were partners after all.

Blake swallows thickly, a wonderful mix of saliva and blood forced down her throat and making her grimace, and she grits her teeth. _Move, damn it_. She had to get back up. A look toward Ruby and she could see her friend was not giving up either.

Her body refuses at first, reluctant like a rebellious child, and Blake bites her tongue so hard her aura immediately rushes to defend that too. A reprimand, a scolding. Her aura whines, scorned, and relents to her command, forcing her body to move.

 _The fight isn’t over_.

It was only beginning, and Blake would be _damned_ if she let Yang fight alone.

Her teeth gnash together as she begins making the _horrible_ process to get to her hands and knees, a sharp hiss escaping through them and it's better than the cry of agony that it wanted to be instead. Blake moves little by little, the skin of her back feeling like it was seconds away from ripping apart altogether, but she pushes through. Her vision goes dark, so she closes her eyes as well and fights the wave of nausea that assaults her stomach, abdomen clenching with the agony.

Her free hand presses firmly into the ground, the rocks sharp and uncomfortable against her skin and she wonders how she ever found it nice to stay on. The other, holding the sheath of Gambol Shroud, stabs the blade into the ground to provide some sort of leverage and support. She pushes herself to her knees, her back slowly uncurling from where she had it furled the entire time to lessen the pain.

Blake tries not to think about how warm her blood is, her back throbbing faster than her heartbeat, and she takes a second to just breathe and relish in the accomplishment of getting onto her knees, both hands pressing to the top of Gambol and she rests her forehead against it for a moment, panting. Nausea stabs at her stomach and vertigo makes her head swirl, tears blur her vision and trail hot streaks down her face, but she inhales and exhales slowly, fighting it off in the best way she knows how.

When her eyes open again and shift up, the world seems to become clearer. At first, she spies Ruby, who has stopped moving altogether, waiting for them most likely, exhausted as they are or maybe even more than them. There is a flash of what could be considered _fear_ \- or unease, at the very least- that twists that corrupted face as she stares away from Blake’s direction.

And as Blake follows those wrong eyes-

Her breath is robbed from her for a different reason entirely.

Yang is on her feet now… and she’s _glowing_. Quite literally, the longer Blake looks at her; embers flake off of her body, heating the air around her, a golden-white shine to her skin and she looks so devastatingly, terrifyingly beautiful in this moment Blake almost forgets everything entirely. She had known Yang to shine before, but never to this extent.

She looks otherworldly. Heavenly.

And the sight of it pushes Blake to stand to her feet, a guttural groan stifled within her throat as she moves. Her grip on Gambol Shroud tightens and her body lurches a bit, swaying as she finally stands, but by sheer will alone, she doesn’t fall back down. Everything hurts, and she can _feel_ her blood trickling uncomfortably down the middle of her back, the pain beginning to go a little numb (she didn’t know whether that was a good or a bad thing). Her aura moves to close the wound, but she doesn’t let it go completely.

No, that would take everything she had left and then some. Blake still needed it for her semblance if the fight was going to be as horrible as she was expecting it to be.

Her eyes turn back over to Yang, who remains staring Ruby down, intimidating her with her presence alone, and it seems to be enough to keep Ruby from charging in on them recklessly. Unknowingly, Yang is giving them the time to stitch themselves back together to rise and prepare for the worst.

Blake is drawn to her, a moth to a fiery doom, and her steps are slow and heavy and it is nothing short of pure torture- having to move despite how severe that injury was. She pays no attention to Ruby, and Ruby pays no mind to her either, cautious and wary and trying to psyche herself up as well. 

She makes it to the in-between part where the katana of Gambol Shroud rests, reaching for Yang on behalf of Blake, and Blake almost wants to leave it there because bending down right now would be a task and a half. But, no, they needed all the advantages they could get, and willingly crippling herself even more with only half of her arsenal would help nobody. (Well, it would benefit Ruby, but Ruby was the enemy right now so that wasn’t a good thing.)

Her breathing grows heavier, ragged, as she lowers herself little by little, somehow keeping her balance despite it all, and it feels like the greatest accomplishment in the world when her fingers brush the grip of her weapon. Blake clutches it gently, running her thumb against the material for a moment, as if in apology for dropping it so many times, before making the other torturous task of standing straight again. 

How she manages, she honestly doesn’t know at this point, and she blinks away the stars and the little black dots that hover by the corner of her gaze, biting her lip to keep from crying out. She sheathes her weapon, holding it in one hand to keep the other free, and she continues on her way over to Yang’s side.

Every step hurts, yes, but every step seems to get easier too. Perhaps she was getting used to the constant pull and strain of her ripped skin, or maybe she was just convincing herself that she was. A simple matter of mind over body, and though pain had been a constant ever since the night began, she would push it aside to let it destroy her later.

They had more important matters at hand.

Yang seemingly doesn’t notice her approach, eyes only for Ruby, the deepest shade of red Blake had ever known them to be. They do not blaze with fury and danger as before with the jaguar, where anger and overprotectiveness had overtaken her actions from seeing Blake hurt- but instead, this fire is controlled. Meticulous. Yet, still blazing, burning, an inferno of writhing emotions.

The closer she gets to her, the warmer the air gets too, and the more Blake feels her muscles instinctively beginning to relax, her body sagging for half a second and she has to shake her head to keep from giving in to the temptation to rest. The bubble of heat only grows hotter and hotter with each step she takes until it is damn near scalding as she stands within arm’s reach of her partner. She winces a little, a stray ember drifting through the air and landing against her cheek, the skin reddening immediately.

(It hurts to stand by Yang, to be this close, and it almost makes her want to retreat, to run away, but instead she-)

Blake takes in a deep breath of burning air before reaching down with her free hand, gingerly lacing her fingers into Yang’s prosthetic hand- and even _that_ is warmer than usual, the metal feeding off of the rising heat and perhaps it was telling of the durability of Atlesian tech that it wasn’t melting away- and that seems to finally catch her partner’s attention. Yang startles, breath hitching quietly, and her eyes tear away from Ruby, and Blake’s entire body _shudders_ beneath such intensity.

The golden light shrouds her features, gleaming against her skin like the rays of the sun, and glowing cinders float by her face. Blake absentmindedly glances down, the pinkened skin by Yang’s throat catching her attention, and a whimper strangles her alive seeing such a grievous wound there. But it’s closed- well, _closing_ \- so that must be a good thing, cauterized by the very heat she was giving off.

Blake can’t form words immediately, entranced by the fire and the light and Yang Yang Yang.

(She looks like a Goddess that Blake wants to worship.)

There is something nervous and something heartbroken that filters through the emotions in burning red, and Blake knows she reflects them as well. They had to do this. They had to fight Ruby.

They had to save her.

“Together.” Blake finally vows, finding her voice at last, and she squeezes the heated metal of Yang’s hand even tighter, wondering if it would be enough to give her blisters and deciding that she didn't care if it did. _I won’t leave your side_.

_I am here every step of the way._

Yang lets out a shuddering breath, a thin line of steam escaping the corners of her mouth and billowing upward, before her eyes narrow and she gives a firm nod, repeating Blake’s oath with one of her own, “Together.”

Where her stance and her gaze are stern, Yang’s voice wavers, and Blake knows that despite appearances, she is as nervous and scared as Blake is. It makes her a mortal again- still looking like a Goddess nonetheless- and despite it all, it makes Blake smile.

It’s as reassuring as she could muster at the moment, giving another squeeze of their fingers, before letting her go, tearing her eyes away from her partner back to Ruby. The cloaked girl watches their interaction through narrowed eyes, and with Yang’s terrifying glare off of her, it gives her the courage to take a step forward.

Blake honestly didn’t know what she was waiting for, why Ruby didn’t just charge at them now. (She _hopes_ this was a sign that their Ruby was still resisting, giving them this time of momentary recovery so they’re not so terribly beaten down.) Her eyes narrow.

_We’ll get you back, Ruby._

_One way or another._

Blake is reluctant as she moves away from Yang’s side, side-stepping until there is a short distance between them. Just enough space for Weiss. (She chances a glance over her shoulder and sees the ex-heiress still on the ground. Conscious, but not getting up, and Blake wants more than anything to help her friend through her inner turmoil. But this was something Weiss had to do on her own.)

The world echoes with the Grimm in the background, far away now where they were forcing their allies to retreat into the portal and back to safety. The sound of their breathing is incredibly loud for her ears, it brings goosebumps of anxiety prickling at her arms, and… what could only be the sound of Yang _burning_ makes her want to keep her eyes on Yang in all her glory. She is right at the edge of the bubble of warmth her partner exudes, and Blake lets it soak deep into her bones, comforting her and giving her the boost she needs to stay determined.

Gold eyes drift downward, catching her reflection in the black metal of Gambol Shroud, and her throat tightens.

Perhaps she’s growing delusional now, because when she looks down at her reflection, she sees herself, true, but not as she is in the present time. Not tired and battle-worn and determined to fight.

She sees her past self. Cat ears bound and hidden away from the world by a bow, a permanent frown and secrets hidden in her eyes. Jaded and scared of everything and haunted by Adam’s ghost at all times.

Someone more likely to run away rather than stay and fight.

(Someone who _had_ run away more times than she could remember.)

Her grip tightens, jaw clenching and the start of a scowl pulling at her lips. She tears her eyes away, not wanting to see her reflection anymore, and brandishes Gambol Shroud by her side in one hand with a flourish. She stands at the ready.

She _refuses_ to run away again. Not now, not ever. Not when she had people counting on her.

No, now, Blake was going to stay. She was going to fight. She would run forward instead of away.

She was going to get Ruby back. They all were.

Or they were going to die trying.

**_…_ **

**_~ 危ない, 危ない, 危な-危ない, 危ない, 危な-危ない:~_ **

Weiss has reached the precipice of agony.

It has peaked, and there she sits at the top of the mountain of torture; any other pain she feels from here on out is deprived of sensation and nonexistent. Her entire body has gone numb, as a matter of fact, and she sometimes forgets she’s supposed to be breathing as a result.

Her eyes close, wanting it all to be over now, but Ruby is a hope-giving _pest_ because every time she’s just about to accept it all and be done with it, an image of her partner- smiling happy and bright- flashes across her vision in the darkness and she remembers to draw in air. It’s honestly annoying, how just the sight of Ruby gives her strength to keep going when she wants nothing more than to give up.

It makes all of her pain vanish in an instant, and she can almost _hear_ Ruby’s voice in her ear, loud and clear and encouraging as always:

“ _Don’t give up, Weiss! You’re the strongest person I know. You can do anything!_ ”

Infuriating... and Weiss lets out a bitter laugh because it _works_ and she lifts her eyes again to the sight in front of her. Yang is starting to stand and Blake is right there with her. Resolved and getting ready to fight. They accepted the truth that all of them had been trying to ignore.

They _had to fight_.

They had to defeat Ruby.

Weiss closes her eyes again, a soft silver stare meeting hers in the darkness, and she wants to scowl at it but, strangely enough, the start of a smile pulls at her lips without her permission. Leave it up to her partner to be the one to bring her up and tear her down the most. (Perhaps, that’s what love was. Giving that power to another person.)

Her left arm is still damaged, she can’t feel that either, and her aura has stemmed a bit of the bleeding in her shoulder, but Weiss knows without a shadow of a doubt that she’d have to switch her stance now. She was thankful that her father- the only thing she was thankful about him really- had all but forced her to learn how to use her right arm for things. It would have been a horrible experience at this moment otherwise, trying to learn something new.

Weiss keeps her eyes shut, hoping the image of the silver gaze she longed for would give her the encouragement she needed to move her incredibly damaged hand. Sensation is… muffled, and for half a second, it doesn’t feel like she’s moving it at all, but when she glances over at it, her fingers are indeed opening and closing at her command. A slight delay was obvious, and it was still completely numb- she was just going to have to trust that it was going to work when she needed it to.

(She thinks back to the day she decided to be a huntress, free from all scars. She was aware of what kind of life this entailed, she had just been naive enough to think that _s_ _he_ would never get seriously hurt.)

(A week later, the day she fought the knight that would become hers to control, the sight of the scar on her face almost made her want to back down entirely.)

Weiss had long since forgotten to worry about scars. As Ruby had told her once, scars were a sign that she _survived_ and _overcame_ whatever was trying to bring her terrible harm.

This, too, she would beat.

Her eyes drift away, back to the impending battle ahead, and Blake and Yang are standing now, much closer than before. (Yang _glows_ and Weiss is almost incredibly distracted by such a bright light, but as always, her eyes turn to Ruby soon after.) Ruby looks between the two as if wondering which one was the bigger threat, which one she should attack first.

It’s a warming thought. As much as she wanted to get Ruby back for her own reasons, Blake and Yang had their reasons too. Just like her, they wanted Ruby to return to them.

Just like her, they were prepared to go to any length to do just that.

 _I’m sorry, Ruby_ , Weiss grimaces a little, shifting slightly to prepare to push herself to her knees, _but you’re not going to like this._

_But this is what we must do._

It’s easier than she expected, to move and push herself up. Her aches and pains are muffled, on another plane of existence entirely it seems, and she has long since forgotten to worry herself over that. Maybe this was a sign she was close to death or something. Either way, as long as she could still draw in a breath, as long as she could still stand, as long as she could still fight, nothing else mattered.

If she was nearing her end, then at the very least, she’d stop Ruby first.

Weiss sits against her heels, catching her breath and reminding herself of each inhale and each exhale, and it is only through conditioned battle instincts and blind hope that she makes a last-ditch effort to search through her satchel and hidden pockets for any more dust at all. She’d take _anything_ , she’d find a way to make it work in this case.

Fire, water, wind, ice, she’d take gravity dust too, and-

Her heart screeches to a stop when her fingers brush against a tiny, hidden vial, her head whipping down as she quickly snatched it out, holding it in front of her. Half-filled and most definitely old or something, she couldn't even remember getting anymore ever since the attack on Atlas: a time-dilation vial. The pale yellow particles shift with each of her movements, the slight shaking of her hand.

Perhaps this was a sign of their luck finally turning around for the better, for once.

It’s a smaller amount than she’s comfortable with, but it’s better than nothing. It’ll have to be enough for what she plans to do.

With a practiced flick of numb fingers, she pops the vial into one of the plethora of empty spaces, slightly bitter about that, and clicks the revolver shut before she begins to stand up. Pushing herself to one foot first, then to the other, legs shaking with the exertion it took to carry her own weight. Transferring her rapier to the other hand, Weiss grits her teeth and rises.

Ruby notices her moving immediately, looking between Blake and Yang, blue meeting red and black and Weiss pats herself on the back for not flinching immediately. Her partner eyes her for a moment, shoulders moving with the ragged sigh that escapes her lips, and what could be relief flashed across her face for a heartbeat before it's gone. 

It’s gone, and Ruby scowls again, readying herself.

As she steadily straightens up, with nary a thought on her behalf, Weiss’s eyes darken, unflinching, and beneath her feet, a glyph begins to form. It flickers as she stands to her full height, and if she were to glance down at it, she’d see it splintered and cracked and barely holding itself together. (Just like her.)

That was fine.

It’ll do.

Keeping her eyes on Ruby, her jaw clenches, and one final _I’m sorry_ filters through her head.

She pushes the trigger, and energy soars through her as the pale yellow dust is used up.

_We’re going to save you, Ruby._

**_…_ **

**_~:Watch me cry, all my tears.:~_ **

The glyph beneath Weiss’s feet responds in tandem, pulsing for a moment, as if giving a nod, before changing. The stems of the cracking snowflake become numerals, the hands of a clock spin, gears clicking, and her ears fill with the sound of ticking that overtakes the oppressive silence.

She feels lighter already, and before she can use what little amount she had left all for herself, Weiss lifts her injured hand in Blake and Yang’s direction. Two sparks pulse at the center of her palm before twin beams of pale yellow shoot out like missiles, traveling the short distance between them all and landing beneath their feet. Glyphs form beneath them as well, and as her teammates look down curiously, the ticking of the clock becomes louder, filling their ears too, and they both look behind to her.

Weiss meets their gazes head-on, sorrow and resoluteness and acceptance passing between the three of them. She gives them a firm nod, and they return it before facing back to the front.

_Let’s do this._

All at once, they prepare themselves.

Yang readies her stance, arms lifting and fists clenching, the fire sparking brighter in excitement. Blake twirls her blade in her hand, a casual thing almost, and her ears fall flat. Weiss clenches her rapier just a little tighter, switching her stance, holding Mrytenaster in front of her.

Ruby has always been the fastest one. That was what made her so dangerous.

And now, as the time-dilation outline forms around the three of them, at the edge of their bodies with a golden glow that is lost in Yang’s already burning light… Weiss has made them just as fast as her. Faster even, they had never truly tested it before.

(Well, they were just about to.)

Across from them, Ruby Rose, succumbing to the corruption placed upon her… hesitates. She sees their resolve, their determination, their ready stances.

She holds Crescent Rose, lifting it just a bit higher, the dull metal of the curved blade stained with their blood.

They stand at a stalemate for a moment. Half a second. A single breath.

And as one, with no warning, Weiss and Blake and Yang charge.

They were _going_ to save Ruby.

Or kill each other trying.

**_..._ **

**_[Dubstep sequence 2]_ **

(To call it a fight would be unfair.

Three versus one was never a fair fight on anybody’s terms. But by this point, Yang and Blake and Weiss had learned that “fairness” had been thrown out the window long ago when Salem did _this_ to Ruby.

If they had to fight dirty to win, then that’s what they were going to do.

Desperate times called for desperate measures.

And they were pretty damn desperate by this point.)

Yang reaches her sister first, fueled by adrenaline and the burst of speed of her semblance and Weiss’s time-dilation. Her steps thunder against the ground, leaving behind subtle craters with each, fire burning burning _burning_ within her, through her muscles, to the tips of her fingers, through every particle of her very being and she is a phoenix rising from the ashes of despair.

She gets up to Ruby’s face before Ruby could even react, and her sister doesn’t seem to be expecting just how fast they were going to be now because she flinches, surprise and _dread_ flashing across her features as she tries to stumble out of the way or fall into her semblance. Her arms move instinctively to lift Crescent Rose to block, but both of them know it wouldn’t matter.

For all of her speed, she wouldn’t be fast enough to block Yang.

(And wasn’t that a first?)

But Yang doesn’t deliver the devastating hit and a part of her whines in aggravation at her refusal to do so. Despite her resolve, she can’t bring herself to do it, not quite yet. It was too soon, too soon to predict how this was going to go and what would come afterward. They may need that destructive strike for later, so Yang resists temptation by the skin of her teeth.

Instead, Yang reaches forward with both hands, past Ruby’s meek defenses and outmatching her quickness, gripping the collar of the ruined cloak with an iron grip. She places one foot in front of her, between Ruby’s, bracing herself and twisting around, bodily throwing Ruby like she weighs nothing the way Yang came from and-

Directly into Blake’s line of attack.

Blake reaches them second, cleaver holding steady off to the side, and upon seeing her partner’s actions, she speeds up, positioning herself. She grips Gambol Shroud with both hands, and only when Ruby is in front of her, back facing her, she strikes. She slashes upward heavily, with all her might, landing a solid hit to Ruby’s back- just a _tad bit_ resentful even- ripping open the burned and tattered cloak damn near in half. (She’d feel guilty for that later.)

(Right now, there was no time for guilt and regrets.)

The force of the blow causes Ruby to stumble forward, growing a little agitated and scared from being attacked on all sides by people moving faster than she can keep track of. She stumbles forward, and Yang is ready for her.

Once more, Yang reaches for her sister, this time going past her shoulders and lacing her fingers behind Ruby’s head, intending to knee the corrupted girl right in the face. Fire streams down her fingers, burning the back of Ruby’s head, and it’s almost too much for her to keep up with.

A growl sounds from Ruby’s chest, her grip on her weapon tightening, and it’s such a strange thing to witness. None of them had ever seen Ruby’s semblance in the works before, not so meticulously at least because it had always been too fast for them to see every single little detail.

Her aura flutters, dull red and midnight black tightening over her body, and her features almost seem to blur for a blink, like they were looking at a mirage, the image shifting and wavering in place. Ruby escapes her grip, ducking and backing away half a step before Yang could bring her knee completely up, and Yang doesn’t have time to react before withered rose petals begin to swirl around her sister. Fingers pulsing with visible veins tighten on Crescent Rose before she spins, the deadly blade whirling with her at an alarming rate- completely covering her front and back in a tight circle.

Blake and Yang are both much too close to evade it.

Yang, as she’s done the entire night, just takes the hit- a grunt escaping her lips as she staggers back, gritting her teeth upon _feeling_ another tear or two ripping open across her body. The gashes don’t stay for long, her blazing fire immediately cauterizing them, and she only feels the pain of it for an instant before it shifts to fuel for her flame.

Blake, on the other hand, can’t afford to take any more damage. Her arms raise instinctually to block it, Gambol Shroud screeching in pain as metal met metal, the force of the blow making her skid backward and she damn near loses her footing entirely. Her arms shake from the impact, the unpleasant vibrations setting her teeth on edge, and her fingers go numb with how tight she’s holding her weapon.

Weiss reaches them at that point, having been farther back initially but no less slow. More broken and cracked glyphs form on the ground in front of her, helping her along and they curve upward like a ramp over Blake’s head. She runs, feeling like she’s sliding on ice more than anything, and once she’s at the top of the curve, she jumps, momentum sending her flying overhead. She spins in the air, coming straight down at where Ruby stands between her teammates- panting and shaking- and Weiss has no time to feel bad before she’s swinging her rapier.

She meets her unmoving target and it almost feels unfair. (But, again, _fair_ has long since been abandoned in this realm.)

Weiss keeps going, creating a step or two between them, Ruby grimacing in pain where the rapier opens a clean cut across her body and she stumbles from the impact of it. She nearly loses her grip on Crescent Rose entirely, and Weiss laments the fact that it doesn’t happen because that’s what she had been aiming for. To take Ruby’s weapon away from her, that would make this entire thing so much easier.

There is a microsecond of a pause between them, Weiss setting herself up for more, and Ruby simply snarls at her. Losing herself more and more by the second to the corruption that created the monsters of Grimm. To the shadows that strangle her heart and drag her soul deeper into the abyss, never to be found again. (She can almost see it in her partner’s eyes, Ruby’s internal fight to escape those shadows, not strong enough yet.)

 _Oh, Ruby_ , her eyes say through the resolution, softening at the edges and features pinching with sympathy, _You must be so scared._

_Do not fear, my rose._

_We are going to save you._

_I swear_.

Weiss flicks her wrist, two fingers bending, and she winces when her arm smarts, the subtle sting bringing her back to the present and her current predicament. The nerves were halfway to being dead altogether, the grievous burn and the stab wound in that exact shoulder not helping matters by any means. It is a game of roulette every time she moves her left arm, whether or not she’d actually feel it and whether or not it’ll hurt this time or the next.

She perseveres because there is nothing left for her to do but keep pushing on.

A dome of fractured glyphs forms around the both of them, trapping them in, filling the empty space one-by-one until they are completely surrounded by the flickering manifestations of her cracking soul. Ruby glances at them, doing a double-take and looking around for a moment and Weiss can see the instant animalistic desperation seeps into impure eyes.

Ruby only manages to take a startled step back before Weiss is moving, another broken glyph forming beneath her feet to shoot her forward. It feels like betrayal, every slice that she inflicts on her partner as she shoots by, catapulting herself from glyph to glyph without rest, and her lungs begin to burn instantaneously from the dramatic exertion. Every strike is meant to dislodge Ruby’s grip from her weapon, but by rotten luck or telling of the corrupted girl’s anger, she doesn’t let go.

Out of nothing but downright spite it seems, Ruby also manages to maintain her balance, seemingly learning to calculate where Weiss would approach next, her figure blurring and rose petals filling the air between them. Frustrated, Ruby lets out a battle cry, turning to strike at random and it only misses because Weiss uses her next glyph to shoot herself _away_ from it.

Immediately finding purchase on her next surface, Weiss grits her teeth and rockets right to Ruby, Mrytenaster aimed for the abdomen and the force of the speed alone sends her partner backward, colliding into one of the lower glyphs rather painfully. (Weiss dutifully, _dutifully_ ignores the way the tip of her rapier is stained with red now.)

Ruby seems to just about reach the end of her patience with Weiss, because she lets out another snarl, using the glyph at her back to provide her own catapult before she falls into a flurry of rose petals and shadow ribbons. (More ribbons than petals now, Weiss made a mental note of that.)

Weiss sees her coming and almost, _almost_ wants to let it happen. To let Ruby tackle straight into her, but her feet move instinctively and she is just fast enough to dodge out of the way, the focus to keep her glyphs there shattering with her momentary hesitation and now Ruby is free once more. Weiss grits her teeth, finding her footing, and turns to make chase but finds she doesn’t _entirely_ need to.

Because sure, this is her fight.

But it’s also Yang’s. And it’s also Blake’s.

She wasn’t alone here.

Ruby shoots straight past her and right into Yang’s pathway. Upon watching it all happen, a bit awed and surprised that her eyes could even keep up with their movements, if only barely, Yang prepares for the moment Ruby is to charge at her, rearing back and raising her leg into the air to come down with an ax kick.

For all the time they spent not planning and simply winging it, Yang likes to think she timed it right.

And she would have! Her heel would have connected right into Ruby and it may have even been enough to knock her out if they were lucky.

But for as much as they can think on their feet in the midst of battle, Ruby is much of the same. Corrupted or not. The _crack_ of a sniper and a stray bullet flying off to the side changes the cloaked girl’s trajectory, bending around Yang instead of ramming right into her, and she’s saved from the kick. 

The ground, however, is not so lucky, and it splinters where Yang’s heel connects with it, spreading out all around in quite the impressive crater. Loose dust and dirt particles lift into the air from the impact like a fog cloud, embers and sparks of gold rising where her foot hits the rocks, and Yang grits her teeth.

She’s lost sight of Ruby in that instant, and that is _never_ a good thing when it came to fighting her sister. Yang would know, they used to spar all the time.

She more _senses_ than _sees_ Ruby materializing just behind her, and Yang knows without having to look over her shoulder that Crescent Rose is about to come down right on top of her and ruin her day. She braces, ready to throw herself forward to at least lessen the blow a bit, and holds her breath, prepared for the pain and the burst of power.

But it never comes.

Something flies by her and she just catches sight of it out of the corner of her eye, and she thinks it’s the shadowy ribbons that have been coiling off of Ruby every now and then, especially from her semblance. 

But… no. 

It’s a shadowy ribbon, yes, but this one is familiar and it makes her release a sigh of relief.

A second later, the _crunch_ that the ground gives when Crescent Rose is thrown off its angle and redirected is almost as impressive as the one it had made when Yang’s heel connected with it. Yang turns her gaze and feels herself smiling.

The collapsed katana of Gambol Shroud hooks around the neck where the blade of the scythe met the barrel of the sniper, lodging itself against it and holding firm. The aforementioned ribbon connects the weapon to its master as Blake comes running up, meeting Ruby’s ferocious gaze head-on as the cloaked girl bares her teeth in frustration from having been refused a kill.

Blake had wrenched Ruby’s aim away from her partner, the girl lurching from the unexpectedness of it and the redirection of momentum, all but losing her grip on her weapon as a result, fingertips just brushing against the metal. Blake makes no move to slow down, eyes narrowed in concentration, reaching her quickly.

Without losing her pace, Blake hops up onto the spine of Crescent Rose, perching for a moment on one foot, and leaps from it. Ruby hadn’t been expecting her to do that apparently, because she makes no move to dodge the incoming knee to the face. 

They are all more than a little surprised when it actually hits, and Weiss and Yang feel like cheering when the power behind it sends Ruby sprawling backward, dispelling her from her weapon and rolling away.

Blake takes no time to celebrate, landing just beside the scythe and letting out a ragged breath, loosely rolling her shoulders and trying not to fall apart at the white-hot flash of pain the slash gives. Every breath feels like misery- she was panting by this point- and every one of her movements, little or otherwise, feels like a punishment of some sort. She has long since learned to ignore the trickle of blood there, the throbbing of agony.

“Get Crescent Rose!” Blake shouts to the other two as she unhooks the other half of Gambol free from the scythe, the blade reforming with a flick of her wrist as she dual-wields once more. (She didn’t think she’d be able to pick up the heavy weapon her leader liked to use in her state.) She moves to stand between them to act as a buffer, Ruby shifting onto her knees a ways away, holding a hand to her nose and Blake tries not to feel so guilty at the blood there.

Red and black eyes lift, disorientated for all of a blink before they focus in on Blake with a newfound fury. (Blake couldn’t quite hide her grimace then.)

“Ruby still doesn’t know hand-to-hand, right?” Blake asks, a little cautious even, faintly hearing the distant ticking of the clock beginning to slow…

“Unless Salem taught her a few tricks,” Yang scoffs, a bitter taste to her tongue, but she moves swiftly, clutching Crescent Rose in both hands and heaving it free from where it was embedded in the ground. It was heavy, even for her, and when a sudden wave of lethargy sweeps over her, she damn near drops it again, huffing in confusion. Blake and Weiss, too, seem to stagger for a second, and as Yang glances up to look at her partner, the subtle outline of the time-dilation has disappeared.

 _Shit_!

The advantage of speed Weiss had given them was now gone.

Yang grits her teeth and pushes through the exhaustion that was slowly bleeding out of her body now, probably faster than the other two considering her semblance was still flaring with energy, and she quickly finds the contraption to collapse the massive scythe into something more portable. The sound of the gears crunching and shifting is outmatched by the sudden shout that Ruby lets out.

“ _No_!”

She damn near drops Crescent Rose, eyes immediately darting over to look past Blake, to Ruby- who had eyes only for her. That… That was one of the first and only things Ruby had said all night (despite her name earlier of course), but this time her voice was… _all_ kinds of wrong. It was such a desperate, almost bestial thing that it sounded less like a voice that belonged to a person and more like the cries of Grimm far in the distance forming a single word.

Blake shudders at it, ears falling flat, and Weiss hesitates a step upon hearing that cry.

Yang holds Crescent Rose to her body as if she was just playing keep-away like she and Ruby had done countless times before, but this wasn’t a game. No, taking away her sister’s scythe, her one weapon, seems to bring about a new form of feral desperation into her stature.

Ruby runs, keeping her eyes on Yang and Yang alone.

Blake immediately tries to intercept, being the closest, but with the enhanced speed from the time-dilation gone, Ruby’s semblance is too much for her to keep up with. She slices through a gale of rose petals and black wisps, feeling no connection with Ruby’s actual body, and Blake grits her teeth and tries to whirl around as quickly as possible- Ruby already having reassembled past her.

Yang backs away, tucking Crescent Rose beneath her arm and not really looking forward to having to fight a savage Ruby with only one hand (weapon or no weapon).

Weiss steps forward then, rushing to meet Ruby half-way and to _keep her away_ from Yang and her weapon for as long as possible, a snap of her fingers pulling up a wall of glyphs at her back, stretching high into the sky like massive twinkling stars. It would most definitely not stop Ruby completely, but it would at least buy them a handful of _seconds_ for Blake to help and for Yang to come up with a better plan to put Crescent Rose somewhere else.

A few seconds could make all the difference in this fight.

But because Weiss has been making wall after wall the entire night, Ruby seems to have had it up to _here_ with that. She reforms before bashing into Weiss, becoming more human than a flurry of petals, and Weiss only has time to see the flash of frenzied rage flicker in those red and black eyes before Ruby is tackling her.

The wind is knocked out of her, her own glyph wall used against her as Ruby slams her into it, one arm held flat across Weiss’s chest, pressing upward against her throat. Ruby snarls in her face and Weiss can’t breathe. In more complete surprise than an actual tactic, Weiss loses concentration of her glyphs, all of them evaporating at once and suddenly, she’s falling backward.

She lands against the ground roughly, Ruby landing right on top of her, and the corrupted girl’s anger shifts to surprise at the sudden loss of the wall.

And instead of immediately rushing off of Weiss to clear the empty distance between herself and Yang… Ruby doesn’t move. Not at first, one knee digging into Weiss’s stomach uncomfortably and the other on the ground, arm still resting against her chest.

Weiss uses this moment of nonmovement to lift her free hand to Ruby’s shoulder, the other clenching around Mrytenaster and preparing to stab into her stomach or _anywhere_ just to get her off. She hadn’t thought it through completely…

But all thoughts are immediately thrown out the window when Ruby-

Weiss doesn’t see her move, but she feels it, _oh_ does she feel it. 

It’s kind of hard to miss hands wrapping around your throat, and _her partner_ does just that. Her entire body immediately freezes, eyes widening, and though it had been difficult to remind herself to breathe as of late, it is now impossible to do so and that’s when the panic sets in.

Ruby presses down on her, and as their eyes meet, Weiss doesn’t know if she’s hallucinating the speck of silver that appears, the tears that begin to form and fall as she looks down at Weiss. Her teeth are still barred, but her face is twisted into something of pure anguish and fear, and Weiss wonders if her partner could feel herself doing this. (It makes her feel even worse.)

It doesn’t last long, only a few seconds at most, but Weiss already knows from here on out that this feeling was not going to go away. Of Ruby’s hands trying to strangle the life out of her.

It was going to haunt her for the rest of her life (no matter how short that life was seeming to be at the moment).

Yang steps forward upon seeing what was happening, eyes widening with terror and she looked like she was just about to chuck Crescent Rose away to go and help, but surprisingly enough, Blake is faster, her own features twisting into something unpleasant and haunting and she sprints up to them, placing Gambol Shroud on her back.

Once she’s close enough, she seizes her leader from behind, looping her arms beneath Ruby’s and proceeding to link her hands behind Ruby’s head, _wrenching_ her away from Weiss. The hold on her friend’s throat is broken immediately and Blake drags Ruby as far as she can, straining against the struggling girl, but she doesn’t let go, teeth gritting and eyes on Weiss as she hauls Ruby back.

Yang crouches beside Weiss, looping her free arm around her and helping the shaking girl to her feet while simultaneously pulling her farther away to get out the clear. Weiss coughs, sputtering for air and hyperventilating just a tad bit, but she seems fine. _Alive_. (Blake can already see an angry red line forming against pale skin and it makes something deep within her stomach recoil at the sight of it.)

Ruby tries to fight her grip, arms flailing and legs kicking and thrashing, and Blake has had enough of this entire night.

“ _Fucking stop_!” Blake snarls forcefully through gritted teeth, outrage giving her a healthy dose of adrenaline, and there must be something in her voice because, surprisingly enough, Ruby does indeed stop. Holding her close, Blake could _feel_ the other girl trembling, could hear her wheezing and panting as clear as day, and despite her anger… Blake feels sorry for her.

(Ruby was on her last legs and Salem and the corruption were forcing her to continue regardless.)

For all of three seconds, nobody moves. 

The air seems to still with them, and Yang is standing protectively close to Weiss, one hand hovering nearby, ready to catch her, and the other guarding Crescent Rose like it was the greatest treasure in the world. Their relic to victory. Weiss is shaking as well, eyes closed and her burned hand reaches up to gingerly hover at her throat.

Ruby damn near goes limp in her grasp, and Blake can hear her take in a sharp inhale, and then…

Then, Ruby is screaming again.

And it is _terrifying_ , an entirely inhuman scream that reminds her of a banshee. A monster craving release and freedom from its chains.

Completely wrathful, bestial, and…

Mournful.

(More and more, Ruby falls, and Blake has to wonder if they’re actually helping her or just making it worse at this point.)

Before she can react, the heaviness of a limp Ruby in her grasp disappears, the stale scent of roses bombarding her senses in the same way petals burst against the front of her body, surrounding her as Ruby uses her semblance to get behind Blake.

Blake staggers at the loss of weight, but she’s too slow, too slow to do anything as the palm of a hand presses directly into the middle of the wound on her back, pushing aside Gambol Shroud like it was completely inconsequential and Blake can’t even scream in pain because… something happens.

(Something always, _always_ fucking happens.)

She doesn’t see it, but Ruby’s aura pulses, flashing in an instant, a muted scarlet and pitch black. It rushes down to her wrist and her palm and- oh.

 _That’s_ what she was doing.

Forcing her aura into _Blake_ the way she did a weapon. In all honesty, Blake had never even thought of doing that before. (And though Jaune’s semblance did something fairly similar, it more sat on the surface of another person rather than sink deep into their body.)

The mere idea of it felt wrong, considering what she had known it to do to inanimate objects. (She could still remember when she tried it on a cup, the way the glass shattered and evaporated because it couldn’t handle the power.)

 _Too late_ , she can’t move away before she feels it, Ruby’s aura trickling into her open wound. The wound _she_ had caused.

Straight away, a sickening sensation washes over her, Blake’s eyes going wide, irises shrinking, mouth gaping in a soundless scream and it is _horrible_.

...It’s such a silly thing to admit that she _forgot_ Ruby’s corruption was affecting her aura too, she had been seeing it all night after all, but it was true. She had forgotten about it, didn’t bother to think about what it would be like to feel it too.

The world fades away and all Blake can feel is… something like tendrils trying to sink deep into her body, force their way to the very dredges of her soul like parasites through an open wound. Seeping in the same way her blood bled out of it. Specks of shadows swirl across her vision that promptly begins to darken regardless, the color of the world fading away to dull greys and whites and blacks, and…

Blake… Blake can… _hear_ something. Whispers of nonexistent entities filling her mind and the words are too hard and jumbled for her to hear. They are quiet at first, speaking simultaneously, before rising in pitch all of a sudden to deafening screams and Blake thinks this is what Ruby was experiencing.

The only way she can describe the sensation is _wrong_. 

Thoughts not her own worming their way into her head, smoke and water and darkness filling her lungs, and Blake can’t stand it.

She can’t stand it _she can’t stand it she can’t_ -

Desperately, _wildly_ , with shattering panic that she had never felt before, Blake’s consciousness falls into herself, to the cusp of her soul and the source of her semblance and she reaches for it frantically. It almost feels like she’s an outsider in all of this, watching the gleaming light, the heart of her aura, surrounded by pooling shadows that snake their way toward it, ready to poison her as they had done to Ruby.

She had to get out of here, she had to get out of here, _she had to get out of here_!

Blake reaches the light before the creeping shadows can, embracing it with her entire body and baring her teeth at the darkness because they were _not_ about to have her too. 

(She thinks she can see eyes of red gleaming like dying stars within the nothingness and it freaks her out.)

It is the greatest form of relief, feeling her semblance react to her command, and Blake feels like crying as she’s pulled apart- dragged away from the shadows just as she drags away her light from them as well- and then stitched back together again. Away from the darkness, away from the cold.

She vanishes from her place, dark ink and tar dropping to the floor where she had been like a puddle of blood, and reappears on the other side of Yang.

Out of the shadows and into the light; Blake manages to find her footing for half a breath before she collapses- both out of unadulterated relief and absolute and sudden _exhaustion_. Yang drops Crescent Rose to catch her, the weapon landing with a dull _thud_ in the dirt beneath, turning her body and her attention to Blake and Blake wants to cry because she’s safe now.

It takes her longer than it really should have to realize she’s shivering all over, bones rattling and weak.

“Blake?! What was that? What happened?” Yang holds her tightly, yet so gently somehow, and though her skin is scalding, Blake just wants to cuddle up against her and fall asleep. Her partner’s trickling warmth chases away the cold that still lingers from Ruby’s touch, and the more Blake focuses on her own thoughts, she startles upon realizing there are still _whispers_ there. They echo for a moment, growing quieter and quieter, gradually fading away after a while. The colors of the world slowly start to return as well, her vision sharpening.

Sensation returns to her completely then and she’s only now aware that she’s panting, wheezing for air, and sweat dots her brow. Blake glances down at her hands, half-expecting to see some semblance of veins there too, but she relaxes when she finds nothing. Her gaze lifts then, ignoring Yang’s terrified look and Weiss’s astonished eyes, over to where Ruby stands.

The cloaked girl has a hand pressed to the middle of her forehead, the heel digging roughly into the bridge of her nose, eyes squeezed shut, the other extended out still and only now starting to lower. She sways in place, trembling just as much as Blake, before Ruby’s shoulders move with a deep sigh- something strangely calming about it- and her eyes lift, hand lowering away from her face and she stands straighter.

Their eyes meet and Blake swallows thickly, nervously.

(Curiously enough, if she were to focus closely… some of the tendrils and veins visible on Ruby’s face seems to have… receded a bit. Encompassing less of her features, not pulsing with a beat of their own as often.)

“Blake?” Yang speaks up again and this time Blake feels okay enough to look up at her. Red eyes glimmer with worry and fear and panic, the fires and light and the glow making her relax even more. The last of the chills leave her, the whispers becoming nothing more but a distant memory now, and she feels just a little lighter.

She was fine.

Whatever Ruby had been trying to do, she had failed. Blake had escaped.

(The same could not be said for Ruby- and now they had to help her escape too.)

“I’m almost out of aura,” Blake says instead of answering the silent questions and concerns, bringing a twitching hand to her chest and blowing out a steadying breath. It had taken almost everything she had left to break free of that, and if they didn’t move now, she would end up using the last of it to uselessly try and close the wound on her back. “We have to finish this quickly.”

Yang frowns at her and Blake wants to apologize for that, but there was _no time to talk_. Gold eyes flick over to where Weiss stands, fingers still absentmindedly brushing against her throat, and as Weiss catches her gaze, realizes she’s being looked at, she drops her hand away like she had been caught doing something she was not supposed to be doing. 

Weiss looks away from her, mostly in what could be shame, before she takes a deep breath and readies herself to look up at Ruby, nodding in agreement to Blake’s words.

“Blake-”

“After, Yang,” Blake sighs regretfully, a hint of a whine in there somewhere, and she reaches up with one hand, running a thumb against Yang’s cheek and not recoiling when the embers near her skin begin to latch onto her. She steadies to her feet, pulling away from her partner’s unwavering warmth, her body still shaking from the aftermath of it all. Whatever that had been, it was gone now. She was _fine_. And Ruby still wasn’t. “We have to focus on this.”

“I-” Yang began before grunting, the tail-end of a frustrated growl in her voice before she nodded. “Right.”

Blake feels terrible, having to put aside everything for _after_ even though _after_ wasn’t a guarantee for them anymore. But their hands were tied and there were more pressing matters of dire importance. Yang sighs harshly through clenched teeth, trickles of steam trailing out from the corners of her mouth, before she re-focused to the task and stepped away from Blake, walking backward until she was directly over the dropped Crescent Rose. 

Yang taps the metal with the toes of her boot, a bit tauntingly even, and Ruby’s eyes return to glare right to her, flicking down to her weapon and back again. A stubborn set to her jaw appears a second later and Ruby rolls her shoulders in preparation to charge once more. She wasn’t going to give up either, apparently, and if there was any time that Yang hated her sister’s tenacity to keep fighting, it was certainly now.

“Let’s finish this while we still have some aura then,” Weiss speaks up, voice hoarse and tired but determined, turning her eyes to share a look with the other two. She exudes an aura of authority the way Yang expels heat. “Give it everything you have left, find a way to send her into the air. I’ll get her from there.”

Blake and Yang give nods of affirmation, turning their eyes to each other, so many more unsaid promises filtering between the two. It was terrifying, the fact that it was almost over. 

What would come in the after? What was waiting for them?

Was it worse than what was happening now?

(They would just have to find out.)

 _This is it_.

_The end._

Blake draws her weapon again, arm shaking, wielding both of the blades and letting out a ragged breath, the muscles in her back shifting and whimpering but she had to press on. Just a little more. One final push. 

Their last stand.

(Yang and Weiss and Blake all turn at once, to the sister and partner and friend they fought so hopelessly for.

They would get her back.)

Just as before, there is no signal for their movements.

Blake charges first.

Without the time-dilation and with utter exhaustion attacking her body (and the remnants of whatever Ruby had done to her sapping her strength even more), she is probably the slowest she has ever been in battle. And normally, this would be the time for retreat, the time to call for reinforcements, but they couldn’t just leave and their allies had been forced away.

They were alone here, and all Blake had to rely on was Yang and Weiss.

(And in all honesty, that was more than enough for her.)

She holds the two halves of Gambol Shroud aloft, the ribbon streaming aside her, and Ruby watches her approach with a scowl forming on her lips. Ruby has only her body now, and perhaps if she tried to push her aura into one of them again, that would make her even more dangerous than when she had Crescent Rose. (Unlike her, Yang and Weiss had no method of getting away from it. They would have to rely on their own methods of dispelling the darkness.)

 _Their_ Ruby would have run away as well. Without Crescent Rose and only minimal training in hand-to-hand, Ruby would at the very least attempt to escape the enemy first.

But not this Ruby.

 _This_ Ruby ran for her as well, fingers curled like they were claws ready to tear away at Blake’s body, teeth gnashed together ferociously in a dead-on sprint. Perhaps she planned on simply bypassing Blake as she had done time and time again, but this time would be different.

Blake would make for damn certain it was.

When there is only a lunge-worth of space between them, Blake reaches for her semblance once more, half-expecting it to not want to work anymore, but it does, to her surprise and relief. She skids to a stop, but a clone keeps going, and Ruby falls for the bait. A flash of red and the cloaked girl breaks apart in her semblance, bypassing the shadow and reassembling just past her where the actual Blake is waiting and ready.

Ruby reappears and she’s not expecting her to be there again if the way her eyes widen is any indication to go by. Blake holds Gambol Shroud over her head, gold eyes burning with the last-ditch effort and resolution, purple crackling over her body and racing to the palms of her hands. Unlike before, where frustration had gotten the better of her and made her forget her own rules, the pooling of her aura into the two blades is steady. Quick, but not uncontrollable.

Gambol Shroud shines brighter than ever before, white-purple dominating the black metal.

Their eyes meet and Blake wonders what Ruby sees in her. Because for Blake, she blinks, and she sees silver eyes before her, encouraging her- _begging_ her to go through with the attack.

 _Save me_ , Ruby’s stance seems to say, _orders_ her, and Blake was never one to doubt her leader’s decision.

She slashes down with both arms at the same time, both shockwaves of energy releasing simultaneously and forming an ‘x’ as they soar free across the short distance. The earth rips apart and Ruby is much too close to dodge it. The energy impacts with her, a muffled explosion sounding in the air before the girl cries in pain, and as Blake stumbles back, winded, her aura flickers away like violet ash in the breeze at the same time she sees a double spray of blood arcing from the staggering girl’s body.

Ruby recoils, pained, thrown off her feet even farther, and her heels skid against the ground.

Blake staggers aside from her place, making room for the others, Gambol Shroud still fizzing, smoke curling off of it, and if she were to glance down at the blades, she would see them pockmarked as if they had just been pelted with acid. There are faint chipping and cracks in the length of the katana and cleaver, a result of using all of her remaining aura at once, and it would no doubt break again if she hit something hard enough.

There.

She was done. She had nothing left.

It was up to the others now.

...And Yang never disappoints her.

Rushing forward, not wanting to give Ruby a moment to recover, Yang blazes by like a meteor, fists held at the ready and fire burning burning burning brighter. Perhaps she was the fastest one at the moment, her semblance giving her that tiny extra boost needed to somewhat hold her own against a speedster like Ruby, but even still, it was unnecessary.

For whatever reason, perhaps her aura was too low at this point, Ruby wasn’t using her semblance anymore and showed no indication that she would again.

Yang makes it to her sister right when Ruby is just gaining her bearings, and by that point, it’s too late for her. Yang is in position already, crouched low beneath Ruby, bringing her arm back and preparing for an uppercut. Their eyes meet, red and red, and the light she seems to give off frightens the cursed girl.

Their eyes meet, and Yang makes a silent promise: _I will save you._

Her semblance burns to a blinding degree, and she feels like she’s melting away. The glove she wears catches fire and turns to ash, and she could even feel parts of her bomber jacket beginning to burn away too. The golden glow that surrounds her shines radiantly, and for an instant, the red in her eyes appears white-gold as well. It hurts, no doubt about it.

Nevertheless, Yang bares her teeth, clenching her hand ever tighter.

She roars just as the flames do, smoke and fire escaping her mouth with her yell and she thinks the inferno inside of her has become too wild even for her to handle. She is the sun that will encompass that blaze, that will shine light upon the darkness that has taken her sister and set her free.

Her fist flies true, landing solidly to the middle of Ruby’s abdomen, yellow tremors and sparks reverberating where it connects, glowing heated cinders flickering to life before an explosion- smaller but no less powerful than what Weiss had accomplished with the incendiary dust earlier- sends Ruby skyrocketing into the air. Yang feels like her muscles are tearing apart and a part of her thinks that maybe they do.

She stands there in the stillness, arm raised into the air, gold aura crackling over her body before it shatters as gentle as one can shatter. All at once, Yang drops to her knees, the blaze that shrouded her hair flickering away slowly and the embers that touched her skin burned her now. She feels entirely too warm, hearing the faintest sizzling of her body, and her vision goes dark for long enough she thinks she might pass out. (It’s hard to breathe and it feels like there are remnants of smoke in her lungs.)

She doesn’t, thankfully. It’s taxing to tilt her head back, but eventually, she does, panting and swaying, a little unbalanced, gaze lifting skyward.

Where the final match was being lit to start the bonfire that would chase away Ruby’s shadows.

Weiss, during this time, had taken a different approach than simply charging straight ahead. While Blake and Yang had run forward, Weiss took a few steps back, creating a staircase of splintered glyphs into the sky. She moves almost regally, like a queen ascending to the throne, until she’s overlooking the battlefield below, standing in position and waiting for her signal.

From up here, everything almost looks peaceful. A glance over her shoulder and she can barely see all the Grimm in the distance forcing people back into the portal, back to safety. In front of her, the castle on the hill sits pretty and proper. All around, though the world is inherently wrong in color, she had grown quite used to it.

She can forget everything…

But she doesn’t want to.

Blue eyes trail downward, and as she sees Yang rushing in for her strike, Weiss lets out a quiet breath and prepares herself. Closing her eyes, she retreats into herself again, to the world in her mind that was safe and quiet. A gentle, cool breeze makes the burn on her arm tingle, healing almost, and the air is sharp as she inhales. She feels the presence of many surrounding her, and though she doesn’t look at them, doesn’t open her eyes, she can _sense_ all of her summons there.

Though she’s too weak at the moment to conjure any of them, their company reminds her she’s not ever alone anymore. She has them, and they are always her greatest form of encouragement.

 _Save her_ , she hears their combined voices in her ears, a whisper on the breeze, an echoing chant, _you can do it._

 _You have to save her_.

On her next inhale, the scent of roses is heady and it makes her want to cry. Natural and wild and free, everything she had always wanted to be and everything Ruby had given her. Strength to take what was rightfully hers, the power to fight for what she wanted.

Right now, more than anything in her life, she wants Ruby.

Weiss returns to her body, a bit abruptly but steadfast nonetheless, and she raises her weapon, holding it in front of her with both hands.

And she whispers, as if speaking to the blade itself.

“I need your help, Mrytenaster,” her voice is soft against the sharp steel of the rapier, and she feels power thrumming within it, within herself. “Help me save her.”

As if responding to the voice of its master, the engravings at the prongs of the rapier begin to glow white, and when she presses the trigger to activate the white dust, the rest of the cartridges shine as well. She feels the warmth of it radiating into her hands, the comfort reaching deep into her bones and giving her the strength to hold herself a little taller.

All along the blade, runes of a forgotten language begin to appear, the color of snow and pure light radiating across the silver steel. Weiss lets out a breath, the air misting in front of her, and as her eyes open, looking past the shining blade, she can just see Ruby being uppercut into the air and in her line of attack.

Mrytenaster vibrates with the newfound energy and Weiss is ready.

She crouches slightly, a line of glyphs forming for her to race forward, the cracks smaller now, and she runs. 

Ruby is right at the end of her train, reaching the top of her arc, momentum straightening her body up a bit. When her senses come to, blinking away the blurriness from being hit by a catastrophic Yang, Ruby’s eyes widen.

Weiss sprints, holding Mrytenaster at the ready, the white runes pulsing in sync to her rapid heartbeat, and her partner can’t do anything but watch her come closer closer closer. (She thinks Ruby is letting this happen, the veins on her face having retreated back and that same, little microscopic speck of silver evident within a sea of red.)

Her resolve strengthens, and with it, so does her power. The runes pulse brighter, harsher, and an ethereal blade like the sword of her knight flickers to life around her rapier, her hand, spectral armor reaching up to her shoulder and extending the length and reach of Mrytenaster. More runes appear with the extra space that she herself had never seen before, the silver overtaken by ivory engravings and filigree. 

(Even without summoning it, her knight is always there for her.)

She reaches Ruby, and without any more hesitation, she strikes- slicing at her best friend, her partner, her love.

The world freezes with them it seems, the two suspending in the air for a moment, everything holding its breath. Weiss keeps her stern glare on Ruby, at the corruption that overtakes her beloved, commanding it to _perish_. 

Ruby blinks in something like surprise, looking down at herself, and there- a thin line is cut from one shoulder diagonally down to her hip. White light glows from it faintly, the same forgotten symbols seeming to leach out of the cut like mist and steam and snow.

Her partner looks back up to her, red and black meeting unwavering blue and…

Ruby… smiles. A small thing, a subtle pull of closed lips, but it’s there.

Relieved.

Grateful.

 _Accepting_.

Weiss smiles back.

Alas, the energy bursts, a blinding blast reminiscent of Ruby’s own silver-eyed power that eradicated the Grimm, and Ruby is sent flying back down to the ground whence she came. She collides like a star finding its way to land, rolling with the momentum away from the initial crater until she remains flat on her back a few feet away.

Weiss drops from the air as well, landing on her feet and into a crouch before she immediately stands back up, nerves running ever high and expecting something to come out and attack them right away. Her eyes remain on Ruby’s prone form before tilting down to her blade, holding it at her side.

The white runes continue to glow for a few seconds longer, the spectral armor remaining as well before they begin to flicker away, falling like gentle snowflakes to the ground and vanishing until only Mrytenaster remains. The engravings were dull from their glow of before, and she doesn’t know why she feels like crying in relief.

Her eyes lift back to Ruby, faint red and overbearing black aura glinting around her body before breaking and Weiss knows there’s no going back now.

It was done.

The battle was over.

And they have triumphed.

Behind her, Blake and Yang watch it all happen with awe and twinkling hope, the former finding enough strength to walk forward and help her partner to her feet. It's a grueling effort on both of their ends, but finally, Yang stands and they take a moment to just hold each other, arms wrapped around the other tightly. Reassuring and relieved and tired.

Together, cautiously and ever mindful of their new state of vulnerability, they begin making their way forward, limping heavily but keeping each other from falling.

Weiss stands at attention, knowing that at this moment, she is the only one who has some aura left (she’d have to thank Jaune later, _i_ _f there was a later_ , for the little boost he had given her), however small that amount may have been. Her entire left arm has gone completely numb and if she looks down to test her fingers, she’d find they weren’t moving on her command anymore.

Their heavy breathing fills the silence, the three of them on-edge as ever, and Weiss is the first to take hesitant steps toward a seemingly unconscious Ruby.

 _Seemingly_ , because Ruby was, in fact, _not_ unconscious.

She was just laying there, motionless, eyes staring blankly ahead to the crimson-colored sky before drifting closed closed closed...

(And then the constant whispers in her head turn to crippling howls and-)

Weiss and Blake and Yang all freeze at once when Ruby suddenly gasps, the sound painful to hear, her back arching off the ground, and she _screams_. Agonized and terrified and desperate. She rolls on the ground, clutching at her head like it might explode, and continues to wail.

They all look at each other, not knowing what to do. Completely out of their element and afraid of the unknown of it all. Weiss takes half a step closer, rapier shaking in her grasp, and she’s torn between wanting to run and help or get ready to keep fighting and her hesitation makes her motionless.

Ruby rolls onto her knees, her body hunched over against the ground, and it’s only then they hear _words_ through the screams and the cries.

“ _No_!” It startles them and Weiss feels her body flinch instinctively back. “ _No_! No! _Stay away_! Stay-”

Energy that is not her own snaps and sputters over her body, black wisps and bolts arcing around her form, ribbons of shadows streaming off of her and melting against the red ground. She clutches her head tighter, a cry of pure agony ripping free from her throat, and Ruby sobs.

“ ** _Stay_ _away_**!”

And despite everything, Weiss can’t stand seeing her partner like this. Corrupted or not, hearing Ruby crying out in pain was not something she ever wanted to hear again. She proceeds to walk forward, fingers tight around Mrytenaster, and a sorrowful frown pulling at her lips.

She walks, except…

She only manages to take a few steps before the world eclipsed.

All around them and in the span of one blink to the next, a sphere of pure darkness overtakes them. Endless twilight, a void of nothing, swallows the battlefield and to her, it almost looks like it had been here the entire time. How was it possible for something like this to form so quickly without any of them noticing?

Dread eats her alive like the shadows eat the world around her when she hears dual cries of agony come from behind her, and Weiss spins around quickly, attention on Ruby completely forgotten, to Blake and Yang behind her.

And she sees… something _agonizingly_ familiar.

It almost feels like a flashback of sorts; shadowy tendrils crawling against the ground, gliding through the air and reaching like clawed fingers for the other two.

(But this time, Ruby is not dashing through them as though she were teleporting, ripping them all to smithereens with a crimson scythe. 

Ruby is on the ground behind her, crying and screaming and convulsing, and Blake and Yang were there, _defenseless_ without their auras.)

They reach Blake first because Blake had noticed them and immediately pushed Yang away in the hopes that it would help.

She had pushed Yang away instead of trying to dodge and paid the price for it, and the clawed shadows pierce her, stabbing into the middle of her abdomen. Much too quickly for her to react, black veins splintering up her sternum, the darkness crawling up a second after the veins and wrapping around her throat. Blake tries to resist, of course, but she is too weak and too tired to do much of anything as they drag her onto her hands and knees, pulling even more until she’s flat on her face in a pool of the shadows that latch onto her straightaway.

Yang had made it all three steps away from the initial push, turning around to see her partner fall, and though Blake had tried to get her _away_ , there was no way in _hell_ that she was going to run and leave her behind. So, Yang rushes for her- tries to, at least.

Because her back is turned and the void is _everywhere_.

She feels a stabbing pain right at the base of her spine, a tortured cry escaping her lips as it only crawls higher and higher, touching across every single bone on the way up to the nape of her neck, and they push her forward. She fights off as best as she can, reaching behind with her hands to physically haul off the darkness, but her fingers meet something like smoke and tar and not anything solid enough for her to find purchase. Yang crumbles to her knees, forced onto her face as well, and even still, she tries to push up against the overbearing weight but she can’t. She can’t, because the pool beneath her is sticky and pulling pulling pulling her down.

They feel like they’re fighting, putting up a struggle but… Their bodies aren’t actually moving, paralyzed by the suddenness of it all and the darkness starts to consume them slowly but surely.

It all happens so fast- and just like before Weiss _can’t move_.

_Not again not again not again-_

_**Move**_!

Unlike before, her body actually listens this time. She dashes forward, slicing at the amorphous darkness that overtakes Yang, and it doesn’t seem to like that. Tendrils shoot out from it, straight for her, and she side-steps out of the way, cutting it apart with a flick of her blade and a frustrated snarl.

But strangely enough, though she does indeed tear through the shadows… Some of it seems to remain on her blade, staining the silver steel with black, and it seems to become heavier. Jarringly so, and her arm lurches beneath the new and unfamiliar weight and Weiss pants breathlessly, eyes darting to where she had last seen Blake and Yang.

Another shadowy, shapeless form lunges for her, and Weiss bares her teeth and pierces right into the center of it, a shining glyph forming at the tip of the rapier and evaporating a majority of the darkness. But not all of it, because the ones that had escaped the radiance cling to her arm, weighing her down even more, and Weiss has to resist dropping Mrytenaster altogether. It feels like she’s playing tug-of-war with the darkness... and it’s winning.

The wisps creep up her arm, to her bicep and the curve of her shoulder, and Weiss knows she has to find a way out of this before it can cover her whole. She grits her teeth and wrenches her arm as hard as she can.

That’s a mistake, apparently, because instead of pulling herself free, the resistance seems to either aggravate or excite the darkness because it begins to _squeeze_ around her arm. Compressing tighter and tighter, going to a crushing degree and still pressing nonetheless. Her aura fizzles to life then, trying to protect her, but it is too fragile at this point and Weiss has no time to call it back before it breaks.

A second later, so does her arm- from the wrist to the middle of her forearm- and she screams, losing her grip on Myrtenaster, falling to her knees because the shadows pull her forward.

She continues her struggles, a hopeless act, but more and more have clung onto her from behind and on her shoulders now and she’s splayed out onto her back. The tendrils slither along her body, her skin reddening as if touched by acid, and Weiss can feel herself being pulled down down down.

Consuming her.

_Is this it?_

Was this how she died? How they all met their end?

Above them, still on her knees and still whimpering, Weiss can hear Ruby muttering, “No, no, no.”

Her body goes numb, and where before it had been a pleasant thing from all the pain, at this moment, it was a terrifying sensation. Weiss feels drained now more than ever, and her vision begins to dim, her eyes slowly beginning to fall shut.

She hears a voice.

“It’s as the saying goes…”

Weiss’s heart feels like it stops, lungs stuttering to a halt and her eyes fly open. Haunting, smooth, chilling, and she only remembers ever hearing it once or twice before. _No_ … She almost doesn’t want to, but morbid curiosity is a killer, and her head turns slightly to the side.

And just like in her nightmares of the night she lost Ruby, Salem’s red eyes gleam with terrifying triumph. The devil herself stands there amidst the shadows and darkness, off to the side, as if she’s always been there from the very beginning. Watching. Waiting. She radiates an aura of black light (Weiss didn’t know light could be that color) and one hand is raised, fingers curled, and that too glows an ominous shade of red. Her fingers curl a little tighter, a little harsher, and the darkness eating them alive responds in tandem, growing more and more ravenous and pulling them ever deeper into the abyss.

Suffocating them, slowly, painfully, keeping them awake so they could feel every agonizing second of it.

Salem sighs, “If you want something done right, you do it yourself.”

Those haunting eyes turn over to a whimpering Ruby then, a displeased frown pulling at her lips, disappointment in her pinched brow, and she shakes her head. Ruby’s mutterings grow quieter, but Weiss doesn’t see her anymore, her eyes only focused on the source of her inevitable demise.

Salem trails her eyes back over to them, casting a cursory look over them all as if they were nothing more than ants crawling along the ground in her path.

“No hard feelings children,” her tone is dripping with condescending arrogance and it sets Weiss’s teeth on edge, but she can’t do anything. That clawed hand curls ever tighter, more wicked, and it feels like her ribs are being caved in.

(She doesn’t turn her eyes down to look, but no trace of Blake is visible anymore, just a vague outline of her body covered in darkness. Yang is more than halfway from joining her, one hand outstretched in that direction and whole body limp.)

The entire lower half of Weiss’s body has been consumed, the tendrils crawling ever higher, reaching up to her neck and chest and wrapping around her throat as Ruby’s fingers had done earlier.

Salem finishes speaking, “I just don’t like to lose. You understand.”

And above all else, _that_ is what hurts the most. Salem doesn’t like to lose- meaning they were actually close to _winning_ for once. Just within reach even, and because fate was a petty thing, Salem had decided to step in and tear it from them without their knowing.

They could have done it…

_We could have saved her._

Weiss blinks and her vision blurs but with tears this time. They leave hot trails as they drip from her eyes and she loses all desire of resistance. Yang is completely covered at this point, and Weiss knows she’s just about close to joining them as well.

This was it.

 _This_ was where she died. Completely. Never to be brought back again by a miracle.

Swallowed by the same darkness that had taken Ruby in the first place.

Her thoughts drift to the others, the ones in her life that she was going to leave behind.

...She hopes Winter would forgive her.

Hopes that Jaune and Ren and Nora would be okay, would continue fighting for them until they achieve victory in their place.

(Hopes her mother and Whitley and Klein remain safe.)

Weiss squeezes her eyes shut, saying goodbye to her summons as well that sing mournful songs on her behalf. The Arma Gigas, wounded and chipped like her glyphs had been, bows its head forlornly.

If she was going to die… The last thing she wants to see is Ruby.

Her first friend. Her leader. Her partner.

Her beloved.

So, Weiss forces her eyes open despite feeling the shadows spilling like slow-seeping poison up her neck and to her face, slithering to the curve of her jaw and beginning to drip onto her cheeks. She tilts her head back to look above her.

Ruby…

Ruby has stopped shivering now, has stopped screaming. She has gone completely silent and though she still remains hunched over and on her knees, her head was turned to the side, watching it all happen. Watching as they were consumed by the darkness, watching as Salem defeated them with just a twitch of her fingers.

Tears stream from Ruby’s eyes, and when blue meets wrong red and imagines them to be silver- Ruby gasps. Wet and rough and breathless.

She gasps, and the last thing Weiss sees in those eyes before the world goes dark…

Is a slight shine of _silver_.

**_…_ **

**_~:Watch me cry, all my tears: (distorted)~_ **

**_..._ **

**:The sight of them fading into the shadows should make you happy.**

**You should be relieved.**

**Salem had sensed you losing, had sensed your impending failure, and she has come to help you now. She has come to** _save_ **you. To free you from these horrible emotions that impact like bullets in your chest, bursting free and true. To free you from this pain that they inflicted upon your body, ripping open wounds and shattering your ribs with nary a moment of hesitation.**

**You’re supposed to be** _happy_ **, yet…**

**You turn your eyes to watch it happen- because Salem wants you to see- and you catch a watery gaze and…**

**Weiss.**

**Those pretty blue eyes look at you, and though they swim with tears and endless pain and anguish and apologies that you think you can hear and understand… There is also love.**

**Love...**

**_“_ ** _Think about the people who love you._ **_”_ **

**Salem told you nobody did. That these people had used you, betrayed you, doubted you, and left you to rot away. They didn’t care for you, they didn’t love you. But…**

**But… You can’t deny what you have seen in this fight. You can’t deny the emotions these people have had toward you this entire time, this entire battle. They clashed with you out of desperation,** _begging_ **you to stop,** _begging_ **you to come home with them.**

**Did they love you?**

**Some part of you, worming its way free from the blight and the corruption, whispers “** _yes_ **.”**

 **“** _Focus on the thought of them. The way they make you feel.”_

**You don’t like focusing on emotions much. You don’t entirely trust them. Just like your body and your thoughts and your everything, your emotions are not your own.**

**They have been tainted by Salem’s power.**

**Salem told you these people hated you.**

**They have brought you nothing but pain pain pain…**

**Right?**

**The little worming light burns brighter, spurned on by those blue eyes that have now been covered by the shadows, and it says sternly, “** _Wrong_ **.”**

**...These people… They made you happy.**

**They made you the happiest you have ever been.**

**_“_** _Focus_! **”**

**It was damn near impossible to do so.**

**Your head hurts so much you think it’ll shatter, and with Salem here, the corruption is working double-time in breaking you and you almost want to let it happen.**

**You’re tired, you’re so tired. If you just give up…**

**It’ll all be over.**

**But…**

**But these people are in trouble.**

**The ones you care about.**

**These people that came** _all this way_ **, fought so many monsters and faced so many hardships- all for** _you_ **. All to come and save you.**

**Because they** _love you_ **.**

**And… And you love them.**

**“** _Life… is beautiful_. **”**

**Beautiful, just like those eyes.**

**Just like Yang’s sunny smiles.**

**Blake’s happy laughs.**

**Weiss’s tender looks, reserved only for you you you.**

**“** _It is precious_. **”**

**The light is growing brighter, steady, and you don’t know whether it’s suffocating you or helping you breathe.**

**If it’s killing you or bringing you back to life.**

**You don’t know which one you’d prefer.**

**“** _And it must…_ **”**

**You blink, and suddenly, everything becomes clear.**

**For the first time in what feels like forever…**

**You are free.**

**“** _Be…_ **”**

**You have to save them.**

**They came to save you, and now you have to save them.**

**They can’t die, you can’t let them die.**

_You can’t let them die_ **.**

**“** _Protected. **"**_

**No matter what cost.** _No matter the cost_ **.**

**So, you grit your teeth.**

**You reach for the light, and as the tips of your poisoned soul brush against it, it bursts free and now it** _definitely_ **begins to burn you.**

**This light banishes darkness after all, and there is darkness in you yet.**

**It should scare you. It should stop you.**

**(A part of you is indeed scared… but you don’t stop.**

**You** _can’t_ **stop.)**

**You don’t know what touching this light would entail when you aren’t exactly pure anymore but…**

**You don’t hesitate to embrace it, pulling it forward more, helping it escape from its shadowy chains and the confines of corruption.**

**It burns and burns and burns and you pull pull pull.**

**You’re screaming again; in anger, in pain, in anguish, in resoluteness. You throw your head skyward, body bending back, and** _scream_ **for all the world to hear.**

**You** _will not_ **give up.**

**You** _will not_ **give in.**

**Salem does** _not control you_ **_._ **

**Your eyes burn. The light burns.**

**You burn.**

**And the world turns to white.**

**...It fades away…**

**(...And so do you…)**


	7. Final Chorus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya! We made it to the end everybody. The final chorus. Man, I really can't believe I actually did this and that people enjoyed it :). Thank you all from the bottom of my heart for taking the time to check out this little project of mine. There will be an epilogue after this, but other than that, enjoy the last part y'all :). (PS; please don't kill me)

**_~:Let me face, let me face, let me face my fears:~_ **

( _It feels like they’re in a dream._ )

A warm, gentle breeze tickles her cheek as consciousness slowly carries her above the abyss of sleep. It is sweet, carrying the scent of sunlight and freedom, and it stirs Yang to open her eyes.

As soon as she does, she is attacked by said sunlight, a stream of it blinding her directly in the eyes and she winces a little, grunting and lifting her left arm to shield herself from the intrusive rays. Her left arm raises, following orders, but for a second- just half a second- she _thinks_ that something isn’t quite right with it. That something feels… off.

But then, she blinks again, looks at her arm curiously, and it is completely fine and the feeling is gone. Her other arm comes up to rub at her left shoulder, a furrowed brow appearing on her face before she’s distracted by the blueness of the sky.

Something tells her that it’s been a while since she saw that color up there- which is strange because isn’t the sky normally blue anyway?

Wait, where was she again?

She’s flat on her back for whatever reason, not really knowing where she was or how she got there or what she had been doing before coming here. There is the softness of grass and gentle earth beneath her that she soaks in, every muscle in her body relaxing in one collective sigh of relief.

She doesn’t know where she’s at, but if it’s such a peaceful place, did it matter where she was?

Yang takes in another deep breath of the sweet air, a gentle smile to her lips, and she stretches her arms to reach toward the clear blue sky. (Again, something feels off. There is a faint tingling on certain points of her body- her left shoulder, straight down the middle of her chest, her left arm in general, her lungs and ribs, but the more she focuses on those sensations, the farther they get out of her reach and she’s distracted by the scenery around her.)

A yawn escapes her lips and she brings one knuckle to rub at her eye, debating on whether or not she should just stay there- because it was quite a nice place to lie down- or get up and explore. And because she’s always been the curious type seeking adventure, she- to her greatest reluctance- sits up from the grass.

Far ahead of her is an endless field of long grass plains that disappear into the distance and into incomprehensible colors. It hurts her eyes to try and look too far, so instead, she glances to either side of her, and upon looking to her right first, a smile immediately blossoms across her face.

Blake is there, curled on her side facing her, looking so peaceful with sleep and arms slightly extended in Yang’s direction. Yang forgets what she’s supposed to be doing for a different reason entirely, eyes softening and her heart stutters with the melody of love. It’s a beautiful song, music filling her ears from the dredges of her soul- all borne from the sight of her partner looking so relaxed and at peace.

She can look at Blake sleeping forever, but something urges her to reach out, so she does.

Bringing hesitant fingers to brush the back of metallic knuckles against a smooth cheek, she trails the ray of sunlight painting a streak of golden-yellow down her partner’s face with a hand, curving at her jaw, and Blake’s even breaths stutter, inhale sharp, and her closed eyes squeeze a little before fluttering open. 

There is a dazed look to gold eyes, and the loving smile to Yang’s lips twitch downward in the start of a frown seeing… what could only be _pain_ or at least _f_ _ear_ in them upon opening. But then, Blake’s eyes close again, remaining shut for a moment longer, before she slowly inhales and opens them once more and the look is gone completely. As if it never happened in the first place.

Those eyes that make Yang feel like she’s found treasure flick up to her and-

Yang chokes on her next breath.

Because Blake looks at her and instantly, _instantly_ smiles, a content little thing so warm and tender it makes her heart jump in her chest. (It does _things_ to her, knowing that just the sight of Yang can make Blake smile like that upon waking.)

Her partner lies on the ground for a few seconds longer, just staring at her, before she draws in a deep breath to completely fill her lungs, stretching against the ground languidly like she has just woken up from the best nap in the world. And honestly, Yang just about wants to do the same, never having felt so well-rested. (Something tells her it’s been a _while_ since she’s felt this rested.)

“Yang,” Blake whispers as she lays against the ground, eyes drifting over the sky and tilting side-to-side to look around and her brows furrow. “Where…?”

“Honestly? I’m not sure,” Yang answers with a shrug, letting out a quiet, breathy chuckle because she still can’t breathe properly from all that, and purple eyes return to the blue sky. She doesn’t know why she’s so mystified by that color, so… reassured by it. “But it’s nice, isn’t it?”

Blake doesn’t respond, sitting up and rubbing at her forehead, and because Yang isn’t looking at her, she doesn’t see the slight grimace her partner gives with the movement. Blake feels a twitch of the muscles in her back, as if a part of it screams in disagreement at once, but then it’s gone.

(She seems to be forgetting something…)

Yang watches her quietly, letting her have a moment with a huff of breath and turning her eyes to the space at her left.

Weiss is there as well, the ex-heiress already sitting up, and for some reason, she’s staring at both of her arms with a strange and confused expression, eyes flicking between the two. A few seconds of this passes before she brings her fingers to her throat, a distant look entering her eyes and she looks so sad Yang can’t bear to see it.

“Hey,” she calls to her quietly and Weiss turns her eyes to her immediately, hand dropping away from her throat. The sad look tempers but doesn’t disappear, overshadowed by perplexity as she looks around. Yang gives a kind smile to her and Weiss returns it hesitantly before letting out a yawn, covering her mouth with her free hand- prim and proper as usual.

Yang chuckles to herself, looking between the two and never having felt so at peace before.

_But something’s missing._

She just didn’t know what.

Her muscles feel sore for whatever reason, and there is a slight twinge of pain at her ribs on her next inhale, her spine spasming with a jolt of agony and it makes her roll her shoulders back to alleviate it. It’s gone quickly, but she begins to stretch lightly because that feeling, that split-second of it, had felt horrible and she doesn’t want it again.

She turns, sharing another fond look with Blake on the way, before shifting around entirely and-

Her breath hitches instantly as her eyes lift and she sees…

A girl at the edge of a cliff.

Wearing a red cloak.

**_…_ **

**_~:oh, Let me face, let me face, let me face my fears:~_ **

It’s like a shotgun burst goes off in her head, and Yang _knows_ what that sounds like.

 _Ruby_ …

The girl stands there, much too close to the edge for Yang’s liking, her back turned to them. The fabric of the cloak drifts with the wind and rose petals stream off of it every now and then, beautiful and vibrant as ever.

And Yang remembers _everything_.

The attack on Atlas, losing Ruby.

Losing herself to grief, hopelessness and exhaustion and just wanting everyone to stop.

The half a year they spent searching for her. Raven appearing, Salem’s twisted and wrong realm.

Gathering the troops, kissing Blake, the Grimm. The fight.

Pain pain pain pain pain pa-

Ruby’s corruption. _Fighting_ Ruby, being attacked _by_ Ruby. _Bleeding_ because of her. And then, and then-

Darkness.

(And just like that, everything begins to fester. Her shoulder- that was bitten by the burning mouth of the gargoyle, the slash down the front of her body by Crescent Rose, the burning of her lungs from the new heights of her sweltering semblance, the _ripping_ of the muscles in her arm delivering that final hit. Salem appearing, Blake falling, piercing pain up her spine, dropping into a pit of shadows that were crushing her, consuming her, pulling her down down down-)

Wherever they were, it wasn’t real.

Or maybe they had all died and gone to heaven but, but-

There is… an innate feeling within her. One that brings tears to her eyes as she watches Ruby stand at the edge of the cliff, no sign of corruption visible, the cloak that had been ripped and burned and slashed apart completely spotless and perfect as ever. Her breath stutters and a sob tickles at the back of her throat.

Ruby makes no move to look at them. She just stares off into the distance, and now that Yang focuses on it, it is just an endless, empty white. The faux world fading away to absolute nothingness and Ruby…

Ruby was facing it like she was…

 _Like she’s going to walk in_.

Like she’s going to _leave_.

And Yang wants to push herself to her feet and drag her sister away from the edge, but her body isn’t cooperating anymore and she’s stuck there, on one knee and turned in that direction.

This feels like… a goodbye.

And Yang starts to cry without realizing it, refusing to blink and miss a single moment of this last sight of her sister.

**_…_ **

When Blake had opened her eyes for the first time in this strange and unknown place, _everything_ hurt. So blaringly it made her vision blur and she squeezed her eyes shut again and then- It was gone. In the space of one beat of her heart to the next, so quickly she could forget it ever happened.

But Yang was here, so she thinks that was okay.

And as Blake sits there, turned partially to better face her love, watching her carefully, she’s the first to notice the sudden _anguish_ that morphs Yang’s face into something heartbreaking. And then Yang is crying and Blake doesn’t know what’s wrong and she freaks out for a second because _Yang shouldn’t be crying_. She shouldn’t be in that much pain.

So, she instinctively reaches out, her partner’s name on her tongue and ready to send aid, but then-

It’s almost like a glitch in the system, because she blinks, and suddenly, there’s a stray petal that floats in front of her fingers and it makes her recoil. Blake’s eyes follow it despite how much she wants to comfort Yang, drawn in by it for some reason, like it was of the greatest importance.

Another floats by and she turns her head to find the source of the sudden petals and freezes.

There’s a sharp pain in her head that is as equal as the burst of agony she feels in her chest as everything comes rushing back to her.

Atlas. Losing Ruby. 

Searching searching searching, failing _failing_ ** _failing_**. 

(Promises promises promises).

Salem’s realm, the world of red and black, and the creatures of Grimm. The horrible night and difficult fight.

 _Finally_ finding Ruby. Forced to fight her to try and save her from the shadows, Salem _appearing,_ and the clawed shadows and-

Darkness.

(She grimaces, pain unfurling down her cheek where the jaguar had sliced her. Her right cat ear, nicked by the harpies, and various other unseen scratches they had caused. The back of her shoulders, burnt for a microsecond by the black flames of the gargoyle. Her left side, close to her ribs and lungs, when she had been pierced by a ramming minotaur. From the middle of her shoulder blades down to the small of her back, the aura slash from Crescent Rose, from _Ruby_. The stabbing and crawling shadows from Salem that had wrapped around her throat, up her chest, pulling her down down down-)

Blake gasps, everything else completely forgotten, and her head hurts and her heart hurts and everything hurts now.

Ruby… Ruby’s image seems to… shimmer. Like they were looking at a mirage of some sorts- or a vision just about to fade- and Blake feels something _lurch_ within her chest at the sight of it, desperate and pleading and she is immediately choked by the surge of her emotions.

Blake doesn’t know where they are, but in the end, it doesn’t matter to her anymore.

Because she looks at Ruby who stands at the edge of the cliff that stares off into absolute nothingness and Blake…

Blake _knows_.

She doesn’t know how she knows, but the feeling settles within her and it doesn’t leave and she knows it can’t be wrong.

This is goodbye.

And it feels like failure. Like defeat.

She brings a hand to her mouth to catch the sudden sob before it could escape, but she’s too late and she just manages to stifle the tail-end of her whimper.

 _Too late too late too late_.

_You couldn’t save her._

And now…

It was time to say goodbye.

**_…_ **

**_~:Won’t be long, won’t be long, I’m almost here:~_ **

Weiss knew something didn’t feel right the moment her eyes opened.

While her surroundings and the breeze and the warmth had been _peaceful_ , her nerves remained on-edge and she didn’t know why. There was a strangeness that _shouldn’t_ have been there looking at her arms- like they weren’t supposed to be as unmarred as they were now.

(It felt something like… looking in the mirror and _not_ seeing the scar she had grown used to seeing.)

She can’t keep from looking at her hands, her arms, can’t keep herself from bringing one of them to graze the skin of her throat and it drives her mad. Because she feels like- like something is _missing_ and she just _has_ to find out what.

(She turns to her left and expects to see _somebody_ , but nobody is there so she turns to her right and finds Yang instead.)

She knows she has to be searching for something, but she’s not sure what it could be.

And then, Weiss hears the other two at her side take in sharp inhales, the muffled sob of one of them, and as she looks over at them, she… sees them crying. Both of them, Yang on her knees and Blake still sitting, the former staring off in complete and utter shock and _misery_ , clutching the sides of her head like she’ll fall apart if she doesn’t, and the latter holding both of her hands to her mouth to keep her sobs restrained and failing.

Alarm quickly races through her and she perks up, turning to better face them, reaching one hand out in their direction.

“What’s-” Is the only thing she manages to get out before the heavy scent of _roses_ catches her off guard on her next inhale. Her entire being screeches to a halt and- oh.

 _That’s_ what had been missing.

Roses…

She closes her eyes for a moment, relishing in that scent, and she just wants to remain there drinking it all in- but there’s a pull at her chest, urging her to do _something_. To see. To witness.

(To say goodbye.)

So, she turns around, following that pull, and when she sees the red-cloaked girl, her entire world collapses.

The memories burst like bullets in her mind and she’s shot in the head over and over and over and over and-

Atlas. Being too _weak_ to save Ruby from being taken. Aimless and completely lost and hopeless without her partner. Trying trying trying.

Determined to get her back. The fear, the pain, the tears; the fear, the pain, the tears.

Seeing her beloved again. Ruby- her precious partner and someone so full of light- lost to the darkness of Salem’s corruption.

 _Fighting_ her. _Winning_ that fight. Ruby screaming, begging someone to stay away, the shadows that consumed them.

Darkness…

(The pain ripples across her body from head-to-toe. The fresh cut across the scar already on her face, the lightning from the nine-tailed fox, _dying_ and coming back to life after her knight’s death, the acid-burns on her leg from the drake’s poison fire, the crack on her chest from Ruby destroying her glyph, left arm burned by her own dust explosion, stabbed in the same shoulder by Crescent Rose, Salem’s shadows crushing her right arm…)

...And then, light.

She couldn’t put two-and-two together then, but she can now.

That light at the end…

It must have been Ruby.

Somehow, someway, Ruby had crawled out of the darkness just enough to use her mystical silver eyes and save them. Maybe. (This was probably heaven where they were- because at least Ruby was here too.)

Her partner, her _dolt_ , stands at the edge of the cliff side they were on. Much too close for her to be comfortable with, and protective partner instincts flare to life and force Weiss to her feet immediately. She stumbles as she stands, staggering forward from the sudden phantom pain, and she almost regrets it because the world blurs for half a second but she pushes on.

Leaving behind Blake and Yang, she walks forward, the grass tickling at her legs as she moves.

(She can feel it in her chest. This… feeling of _conclusion_. Like this was the end and Ruby was…

 _No_.

Ruby promised she would be there until the end.)

(...but maybe she wouldn’t be there for _after_ it…)

Weiss makes it to the halfway point before her body forces her to a stop. Ruby’s name is on her tongue, but she can’t seem to get it out, can’t seem to speak at all.

She freezes, as if her body is trying to stop her- to _save_ her from experiencing something very, very painful…

But it’s too late.

Blue eyes don’t leave Ruby, catching onto every single minute detail. The way those shoulders seem to rise and fall with a sigh, such a melancholic sound that was _not like Ruby_. (Sad… and _accepting_.)

Ruby shifts her weight, turning partly to look over her shoulder. But not completely, because Weiss can _just barely_ make out her features, can _just_ _barely_ see her face in that side-profile. All that is visible is the slightest glint of silver eyes- free from the red and black of the darkness- and the smallest curve of a smile at the corner of those lips that was so unlike Ruby’s bright grins.

(Weiss thinks… she thinks she can see… a single tear trailing down her cheek.)

The wind blows and petals fly free and Ruby seems to give a nod, but whether it’s to herself or for them, Weiss can’t tell.

And then…

Then Ruby turns to face the open, nothing world. Her back to the three of them.

And Weiss _can’t breathe_ as Ruby reaches to grab the hood of her cloak… and lifts it over her head, obscuring herself completely.

 _Wait_! Weiss wants to say, to beg- but she still can’t speak, tongue heavy in her mouth, and all she can do is force another step forward before the winds grow ravenous all of a sudden.

The breeze in this strange world blows stronger, catching her by surprise, and she brings one arm to shield her eyes before forcing herself to look anyway because this feels like goodbye and _i_ _t can’t be goodbye_.

_It can’t be goodbye!_

But the rose petals that had been drifting off of Ruby at intermittent moments become a sudden burst, a gale of red that was not unlike how it was when Ruby fell into her semblance.

She’s not using her semblance though. Not now. Because Ruby still stands there, but… but the more Weiss tries to keep her gaze on her, the more Ruby becomes harder and harder to see through the flurry of petals, as if she’s evaporating bit by bit, and eventually-

She’s gone.

Nothing is left in her place, the drifting petals soaring this way and that, free from their mistress, and Weiss lets out a shuddering breath. Her throat feels tight and she still can’t believe what she just saw.

A single petal catches her attention for whatever reason. It floats slower than the rest had, lazily fluttering through the air while the others had raced away. It meanders its way closer and closer to her and, on pure impulse alone, Weiss lifts her hand to it, watching quietly as it landed in the center of her palm.

She brings it closer to her face.

Weiss had grown used to seeing petals of every shade of red and vibrancy imaginable ever since moving to Beacon and meeting Ruby Rose. At first, she had hated them, always getting in the way and making a mess (before she found out they disappeared on their own after a while). And after the fall and being forced to move back to Atlas, Weiss had _missed_ them like she had never missed anything before.

Rose petals were often the precursor sign of her partner appearing. Of Ruby _being_ there.

And now this petal... it was the most vibrant scarlet she had ever seen before. It almost seems to sparkle with a glimmer of its own, reflecting the light of the false sun above them. Healthy, so unlike the withered ones Ruby had in her final fight.

_Final…_

Weiss feels tears trail down her cheek the longer she stares at the lone petal, her ragged exhale becoming a sob near the end of its lifeline. Her fingers fold carefully over her prize, bringing it close to her chest and cupping it with her other hand as well.

Guarding it close to her cracked and bleeding heart.

She falls to her knees in the fake grass, and it is all she can do as she starts to break apart with each racking sob that makes her body quake.

(In the background, she can hear Blake and Yang crying too. The former having moved over to support Yang as she starts _bawling_ to the point of collapse, and Blake leans onto Yang just as much as she lets Yang lean on her.)

_This had been goodbye._

Because with Ruby gone- _gone gone gone gone g_ \- the world around them starts to blur, and at first, Weiss thinks it was just her tears causing it.

But, no.

This world fades away.

And so do they.

**_…_ **

**_~:Watch me cry all my tears:~_ **

...

Weiss feels terrible.

Her entire body feels heavy and she wonders if the weight would be enough to drag her into the dirt or whatever surface she was laying across. Everything hurts and stings and throbs with agony and she doesn’t know _what_ has decided to bring her to consciousness.

She almost just wants to keep her eyes closed long enough to fall back asleep.

(She had been having a wonderful dream…)

But something is urging her to awaken, and so, Weiss squeezes her eyes tighter, taking in a deep breath- which also hurts to do- and makes the valiant effort to open them up.

She is immediately squinting even though there is hardly any light in this dark world.

 _Right_. Salem’s realm. With the crimson sky and the stale air and the red ground.

That’s where they were.

She can’t seem to remember the last moment before unconsciousness, everything so very foggy in her head, and she lets out a quiet groan that is apparently noticed by something or someone. Because there are noises. Movement. Voices.

“They’re awake!” Someone shouts, vaguely familiar but she can’t quite place who it was yet because her mind is sluggishly waking up, and she wants to groan all over again because that had been _loud_ and there is a splitting headache at her temples. (And her eyes burn like she’s been crying but that doesn’t seem right.) 

She faintly hears the rush of footsteps, senses the presence of others drawing near, and as her eyes finally focus, she realizes she’s actually on the ground. As she makes the painstaking effort to turn her head, she sees Yang to her right, waking up, and just on the other side of her, Blake was slowly coming to consciousness as well.

Blake and Yang look about as good as Weiss feels. (Completely fucking terrible.)

“Weiss! Blake! Yang!” The voice shouts again and Weiss huffs.

She turns her eyes downward as best as she could and sees Jaune and Ren and Nora hovering over them with terrified and teary faces of relief. She, too, feels relief at seeing them, because the last image she had was of her friends being forced away by the Grimm when they-

“Are you guys okay!?” Nora asks before she grimaces immediately, backtracking, “Stupid question, you’re not- Forget it.”

Weiss would be more amused if she wasn’t in so much pain, but she lets out a quiet huff of air that is as good as a laugh as she was going to get at the moment. Her tongue feels heavy and her mouth is dry. She can’t find her voice, but she meets her friends’ gazes individually and forces her lips to form some semblance of a smile to silently tell them she was _alive_ at the very least.

Nora is on her knees below Yang, Jaune moving to crouch beside Weiss and perhaps it is telling that he doesn’t have any aura left because he doesn't immediately try and help hers, and Ren saddles up on the other side of Blake (placing two fingers to Blake’s throat and seeming to relax even more that he could _physically_ feel the beating pulse).

_Something’s missing…_

She just can’t tell _what_ quite yet, and her confusion is shared between the other two on the ground with her.

She wants to speak but it still seems too daunting of a task, so instead, Weiss leaves the voice to one of the other two while she focuses on inhaling, feeling every inch of her lungs expanding and there is such a crippling pain that comes with it she almost wants to stop doing it altogether. But she has to keep breathing. That was important, right?

“What… happened?” Yang mumbles groggily, trying to move her left arm and grimacing before moving her right one instead to rub at her face, physically trying to dispel the exhaustion from her features. Weiss can tell that she wants to sit up, but even the barest twitch of the action makes Yang bite her lip, her hand pressing to her ribs. (There is a shine of confusion in her eyes too, eyes that were reddened from tears as well.)

“We were going to ask you that,” Ren answers with a deep frown pulling at his lips, _gratefully_ quiet as always because Weiss thinks she’d pass out if someone just talked loud enough right now. He is gingerly rubbing at Blake’s shoulder and Blake just closes her eyes in appreciation, face contorted with pain and a pinched expression of confusion on her face as well. Pale pink eyes shift over to Jaune and Nora and he speaks reluctantly, “Everything got… weird.”

“Weird?” Yang grunts out, a bit frustrated that she can’t seem to get her body to sit up and Weiss nearly wants to snap at her to stop trying before she breaks something even more. But who was she kidding? Even lying there, not moving, didn’t help the agony rippling through her body, and she was just grateful a lot of her being was numb from it.

“The Grimm suddenly…” Jaune mumbles before pausing, his eyes turning to the far distance as he scratches his cheek with one hand, brows furrowing as he struggles to find the words. “They just… vanished. All at once, I- We heard… screaming?” He looks over to Ren and Nora, who both nod in confirmation before he continues, “Yeah. Even while we were at Menagerie again, the sound came through the portal. And then, it went completely silent. Like, scarily so.

“We stepped back through and… well… all of them were evaporating,” his eyes scan the horizon, squinting as if trying to find any other creature of Grimm within the radius and seeing none. “Vanishing, like all of them had been killed at once or something.”

That was… certainly strange.

Weiss couldn’t remember hearing a scream.

All she remembers was-

“We began searching for you guys and… found you here, unconscious and bleeding, but still breathing,” Jaune finishes and casts a relieved look over the three of them. Despite his apparent puzzlement of the situation and no doubt having countless questions, he seemed to be content with just knowing that _they_ were alive at least.

Something was missing. Something was _missing_ and she didn’t even know what it was and the harder she tried to figure it out, the worse her headache became and the more her eyes stung. (The more her chest hurt, and while that wasn’t surprising considering the damage she has taken throughout the night, this pain felt more… internal. Emotional.)

(She knew what heartbreak felt like, and this was the worst it had even been.)

Something was missing. Something was missing. Something was-

“And we…” Nora’s voice is hard to hear with how quiet it goes, her eyes drifting over the three of them for a moment, and she seems to hesitate. Like she doesn’t _want_ to tell them whatever she was just about to, and Weiss knows it can’t be good. Nora looks to her partner and leader, the two giving solemn nods, before she takes in a deep breath, finally saying;

“We found Crescent Rose.”

 _Crescent Rose_.

Right.

Weiss had been wrong.

Some _thing_ wasn’t missing.

Some _one_ was.

Now she remembers. Her partner, the fight, Salem appearing at the end of it. The darkness- _gods_ the darkness; it was swallowing them whole, suffocating them, consuming and killing killing killing-

And then…

Light. Warm and bright and _healing_ , chasing away the shadows that were killing them. (And a scream. Yes, Weiss remembers now.)

A dream and-

“Ruby,” Yang breathes out before Weiss can, and when blue eyes turn over to her friend, she can see the way her eyes widen. She takes in a sharp inhale that hurts Weiss to just _hear_ it before Yang grits her teeth and tries to sit up again. _Forcing_ herself. (Weiss thinks she can faintly hear creaking, bones threatening to break, but Yang ignores them and so does she.)

Nora seizes Yang’s shoulders, wanting to push her down before deciding it’ll probably be more beneficial not to fight her on this and helps her up instead. “Wow, wow, slow down Yang, you’re hurt and-”

“Where is Ruby?” Yang growls breathlessly, pained and desperate, and she clutches at Nora’s forearms with shaking hands. Weiss can faintly register seeing Blake being helped up as well by Ren, staring at her hands for a few moments before her entire body seems to start shaking, fingers brushing against her forehead and realization shining in her eyes.

Putting the pieces together.

Weiss recalls the dream now. The peaceful hillside. A feeling of _goodbye_.

Ruby had… disappeared. In a flurry of petals that raced away from them, not even speaking to them. Not even giving them the chance to convince her to stay.

Though her entire left arm, burned and battered, has been senseless this entire time, Weiss realizes with a start that her fingers are curled around something. _Something_ …

_No…_

_No no no no no no-_

She has to see for herself, has to know if her theory was true. Has to know if that “dream” wasn’t as much of a dream as she thought it to be.

(It had been real. Though the world had been fake, what she had seen had been _real_.)

Ruby disappearing, Ruby vanishing, Ruby _leaving_ and-

By some force of will, her fingers cooperate, slowly but surely, and when they finally open to reveal her worst nightmare… everything loses all meaning. The world becomes obsolete, white noise filtering into her ears, lungs having a reprieve from having to continue breathing because Weiss stops drawing in air.

A single, red rose petal sits pretty in the palm of her hand. As if it has always been there, as if it has always _belonged_ there. Vibrant red in color, and maybe it was her imagination, but it seems to glimmer gently from time to time.

The last thing she had of Ruby Rose.

“ _Where is Ruby?_ ” She can barely hear Yang asking again, voice straining and shaking and cracking. Not wanting to accept what she probably already knew to be true, what Weiss knew to be true. On her other side, Blake is staring blankly at nothing, tears forming in her eyes, and it looks like she’s stopped breathing altogether.

“I-I don’t-” Jaune stutters, trying to find some sort of sense in all of this. An outsider to their pain. Nora and Ren look as startled as he does.

They don’t know. They don’t have the answer.

But Weiss does.

(And so does Blake, and so does Yang. They all know.)

It is the most difficult thing in the world to speak, to admit the truth. Because saying it out loud made it _real_. Irreversible.

Her voice is hoarse and quiet, smaller than it’s ever been in her entire life, but even still, it is the loudest thing anybody has ever said up until now as she says;

“...She’s gone...”

They had failed. All of them, but especially Weiss and Blake and Yang.

Ruby, their beloved teammate, friend, sister, _partner_ , was gone. And she was never going to come back.

The war was over…

And they had _lost_.


	8. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh! We're at the end now guys. I want to thank everybody for deciding to take the time to read this little project of mine. I do hope that you've enjoyed it. It still blows me away knowing people have read it. Anywho, enjoy the last part, and please read the endnotes for info on future projects!

**_~:2 years later:~_ **

The quiet breeze carries with it the familiar taste of sea salt to her tongue, and the distant sound of the ocean waves was a gentle thrumming in her ears that made sitting here all the easier to deal with. Yang ran her fingers through the smooth grass beneath her, leaning against her hand with one leg bent and the other extended outward.

The Menagerian sun was warm overhead, as living here always tended to be, and Yang took the time to soak it in, let it soothe her muscles and body and the ache in her chest that often flared when she least expected it.

She was at a cliffside that overlooked a valley of jungle trees below, extending outward as if reaching for the sky. And there, sitting at the very end of it…

A stone memorial sat pretty.

A gravestone that read: 

“ _Ruby Rose_

_Sister, partner, friend._

_Hero._

_Keep moving forward._ ”

Yang drew in a deep breath, eyes roving over the engraved words over and over again. So many times, she was sure that if she ever got amnesia, the only thing she’d remember were these words. A gentle smile tugs at her lips, and if she closed her eyes, she always swore she could smell roses amidst the sea salt and jungle air.

“So, sis,” Yang spoke to the open air. She had known Ruby to do this same exact thing at Summer’s gravestone, and Yang hadn’t understood it at first. But now… Oh now, she understood. (She wishes that she didn’t, cause that’ll mean there would be nobody to mourn and cling to in memories, but she did.) A mildly sardonic curl came to her face as she chuckled, pointing a finger to herself. “From mighty huntress hero to occasional construction worker, that’s me.”

She shifts in her seat, moving to sit cross-legged and resting her hands in her lap, hunching casually, and now that she began talking, it was easier to _keep_ talking. That’s how it always was.

“I know it’s been a while since I came here, so… sorry. But, uh, we’ve been helping to rebuild the places that were destroyed. This long and you’d be surprised how many people still need help. So, in between recovering and just relaxing, we sometimes go out and work.

“Still a few Grimm here and there, but not a lot. The more frequent ones seem weaker too, and the smarter ancient ones are apparently in hiding or something. You can guess as to how many theories have been tossed around since it started,” Yang chuckles to herself, absentmindedly fiddling with her hands to keep herself busy and sane. 

_Since it started…_ Perhaps it’d be more accurate to say since it _ended_.

The war had been seen as a victory to the eyes of the rest of the world- not to Yang and the others, of course. Salem had apparently… disappeared. The last ones to have seen her were the three of them, and even still, _they_ didn’t even know what happened to her. They could hardly bring themselves to even _think_ about those final moments anymore.

25 months and it still wasn’t any easier, that part at least. A few things _had_ become easier to handle, but the pain never went away. Only lessened into something just a tad bit more tolerable.

Regardless, Salem had disappeared, Grimm had also lessened dramatically in numbers, and those that had worked for the devil were locked away, never to see the light of day again. (Yang hardly cared to find out about what happened with those people, but last she heard, she thinks she remembers someone telling her they were set to be executed. She just never learned if it actually happened.)

It was a victory.

...But it still felt like such a terrible defeat.

_Not the time_. She wasn’t here to fall back into horrible, _horrible_ memories.

She was here to catch her sister up on everything that’s happened.

“Beacon is set to open up in a few months, though I doubt there will be a surge of people wanting to be Huntsmen and Huntresses lining up at the doors… all things considered.” They weren’t in such high demand anymore, after all. “Oscar is excited though. He will officially be the youngest headmaster ever, so he’s pretty stoked.”

And honestly, she was happy for him. Moderately for Ozpin too.

(Because they never gave up…)

Yang pauses again, shifting her legs around more comfortably before perking up. Her fingers tightened around her left hand.

“Oh yeah! Ren and Nora got hitched apparently in the middle of nowhere, they refuse to tell us for some reason. They disappeared for a month without a word and then popped by one day like nothing happened and whaddya know- they’re married,” Yang shakes her head fondly, sitting comfortably into the lighter moments of these past two years. “They didn’t want to make a big deal out of everything, or so they’ve said. I’m still trying to get one of them to crack and tell us the truth, but that’s an ongoing thing. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

Yang gave a sly wink before her excited demeanor bled into something softer. Adoring and fond, and her eyes drift down to her hands in her lap. Where her right hand was holding her left…

Directly to the simple gold ring on her finger, looking as though it has always belonged there. (The same shade of gold as her partner’s eyes.)

A grin pulls at her lips as she playfully leans forward again, “But I didn’t bring up marriages for no reason.”

Excitedly, she thrust her hand outward to show off the ring to the open world, pretending her sister was right there to see it.

“Guess who else is getting married? This gal!” Yang points her free thumb to herself, a wide grin to her lips before she settled back, sitting up straighter, proudly stating, “You’re looking at Yang Belladonna Xiao Long… Kind of a mouthful, but it does have a nice _ring_ to it, no?”

And as if called forward by the topic at hand, Yang can just barely hear the sound of footsteps approaching from behind, light and so familiar she almost wants to turn around to greet the love of her life. But, she didn’t, she remains facing forward, and all too soon, there is a warm presence at her back, arms wrapping around her shoulders and pulling her flush against a steadily beating chest. Blake nuzzles lovingly into her hair with a quiet purr, a smile in her voice, and it would be a crime if Yang didn’t reflect it.

“I thought we’d agree you’d just take my last name,” Blake speaks in a quiet tone, dripping with joy and hidden laughter, teasing. Yang breathes out a laugh, glancing as best as she could over her shoulder without disrupting the hug because she quite liked being in Blake’s arms like this.

(In this position, it was so easy to see the amethyst band around Blake’s finger, the same color of Yang’s eyes.)

“You can’t get rid of my Xiao Long blood that easily, light of my life,” Yang smirks playfully, reaching up with her hand and running fingers through Blake’s hair, scratching gently, and Blake let out a tiny sigh of content at that, tilting her head reflexively to press more into her fingers.

Blake chuckles at her words, that husky tone she always has when she’s at peace and full of bliss, and she turns her head toward Yang’s lifted hand, pressing a kiss to whatever skin she could reach (against her forearm). Unfortunately, those arms leave from around her shoulders as Blake shifts over to sit beside her, arms pressed together as they lean instinctively against each other.

Against the grass, their hands linked together, gold and purple rings bumping, and Yang cannot help herself from leaning over to brush her lips against Blake’s cheek, Blake tilting her head so Yang could reach the scar there better.

(Memories and scars, that’s all they had left from that awful night.

Yang knew Blake’s scars as well as her own, had spent countless hours tracing them with her fingers, her lips. And the same could be said for Blake about Yang.)

Blake bumps their noses together with a pleased hum, their eyes meeting before her gold twinkled like the shiniest treasure in the world with mirth.

“Being a Belladonna isn’t so bad,” she gave a subtle shrug, eyes going thoughtful for a moment before she murmurs to herself, “Blake Belladonna Xiao Long… Hmm… It does have a nice ring to it.”

“You see?” Yang laughs, bumping their shoulders together and glancing back toward the memorial. Blake easily leans her head against Yang’s shoulder. “We’ve been engaged for… a while now. Just haven’t gotten around to the actual planning part of it, so we’re technically only fiancés.”

“Speak for yourself, dearest,” Blake smiles tenderly against her shoulder, “You were my wife the moment you said yes. A wedding is just a formality.”

“Don’t sound too excited now,” Yang couldn’t help but snicker, laughing good-naturedly when Blake let out a quiet scoff and attacked Yang’s side with a poke. Yang squirms a bit in response but doesn’t try to move away, enjoying the silence that settled over the two.

Just simply being close to Blake, close enough to feel her breathing, was one of Yang’s favorite past times. (It helped to ease the nightmares and flashbacks. A reminder that despite everything else, Blake was right there beside her.

_Right there…_

The peaceful mood in the air stutters, a solemn and somber aura taking its place as Yang’s jaws tightened. At her side, Blake gave her the chance to _feel_ those negative emotions instead of pushing them away, signifying that she wasn’t going anywhere by caressing the back of Yang’s hand, fingertips brushing against the ring.

“Anyway… We can’t have our wedding yet because…” Yang chokes for a second, swallowing down the emotions and sending a shaky smile to the gravestone. She forces the words out of her mouth, breathless, “I need you to be my Maid of Honor, Ruby. Can’t do it without you.”

And there is more she wants to say, the entire _reason_ for visiting this gravestone in the first place, but she can’t force the words. Can’t bring herself to hope quite yet.

But Blake is there for her.

“Everybody’s been researching non-stop,” Blake speaks in a low voice, clearing her throat to speak louder, eyes reading the engravings over and over as well. “Especially Oscar and Glynda and Qrow and… They think that you may be out there… Somewhere. Maybe. All this time.”

_Alone_. Neither Blake nor Yang wants to think about that. The fact that Ruby may be _out there_ , somewhere, was already difficult to stomach without the added guilt of leaving her alone. Again.

(They failed her _again_ -)

Blake’s ears twitch to the sound of more footsteps behind them, but she doesn’t make any indication to move. No action to defend. She merely turns her head just enough to see Weiss walking to stand by them, off to the side of the two on the ground.

Her friend wears silk gloves that reach to the elbow of her left arm, and Blake herself already knew of the permanent damage just hiding beneath it. The burns that needed constant and careful care, and though Weiss indeed had lost a lot of feeling in that arm- and there were instances where it went completely numb for minutes on end- she didn’t let it hold her back with anything.

Currently, that glove-covered hand was clutching at the locket hanging around Weiss’s neck, close to her chest, and Blake and Yang had grown used to seeing her do that. Knew the importance of it.

Weiss kept her eyes at the distant horizon, standing tall as usual and the two on the ground shared a proud and relieved look with one another. (They remembered vividly the first nine or so months after it was over where they feared Weiss would disappear too. The way the girl just began withering away before their very eyes, not caring whether she died or not. Weiss had come a long way.)

“We’re going to look for you, Ruby Rose,” Weiss’s voice shakes on the name of her partner. It always did, but she pushed through, glancing down at the locket and opening it, absentmindedly aware of Blake and Yang helping each other to their feet.

There, sitting as untouched and healthy as ever in the middle of the locket- the last rose petal.

Two years, 25 months in total, and it still has not disappeared.

If anything, they took _that_ as a good sign.

Weiss carefully picks it up between her fingers, holding it in the palm of her hand and speaking to it.

“We’re going to find you.” This time, they would not fail.

“No matter what,” Blake moves over to stand on the other side of Weiss, placing a comforting hand on the smaller girl’s back, giving her a reassuring smile when their eyes meet. Yang steps over to Weiss’s free side, placing a hand ever-so-gently to her left shoulder, ever mindful of the spasms of pain Weiss still had in that place every now and then.

She gave a gentle squeeze, massaging her thumb against it, and Weiss let out a shuddering breath.

“We’ll scour the ends of the earth and back if we have to,” Yang continues, though whether she was saying that for herself, for Blake and Weiss, or for Ruby- she didn’t entirely know. Perhaps to all four of them, a reminder and a vow that they would not give up on Ruby no matter what.

(Maybe they were just torturing themselves with this new mission. Maybe they would find nothing chasing the ghost of the one they could not forget.

Maybe this would set them back even more, after just barely finding their balance again.)

(But if there was a _chance_ , even the barest sliver of one… Well… 

They would do their damndest to find it.)

“So, please...” Weiss, ever so slowly and with an air of finality, extends her open palm in front of her as if she was offering a gift to the Gods themselves. 

The last remnant of her partner would be the greatest gift of all.

The next incoming breeze makes the single rose flutter a bit- as if it had a mind of its own and it was hesitant to leave just as much as Weiss was terrified of releasing it. After so long of keeping it so close and guarded to her heart.

But it was time to let go.

And move forward.

It is the next gale that makes the petal fly away, and for that first second, Weiss feels the temptation to lunge for it again flare inside of her chest. But Yang is holding her by the shoulder and Blake has a supportive hand on her back, and Weiss knows this was for the best. She wasn’t alone. She had them, and they had her.

Together, the three of them keep their eyes on the single petal for as long as they can before it disappears into the horizon, carried by the winds to a destination unknown.

_We’re coming, Ruby._

_This time, we will not fail._

_Please…_

“...Wait for us…”

_… … ..._

_The rose follows the winds._

_Spurned on by an irresistible pull, it flies across the continents, through cities and oceans and forests and hills and deserts. Though it gets stuck from time to time, caught by branches or blocked by buildings or flightless without the wind, it does not stop forever._

_It keeps moving, always in one direction._

_Forward._

_It passes by empty valleys filled with forgotten bones of battles best left behind, pass bustling civilizations of people going about their daily lives without the threat of the end of the world hovering over their shoulders, pass the occasional battle between man and Grimm. The Grimm are weaker, struggling, and they_ run _from humanity now. (But searching, searching endlessly they are. For what? No one knows…)_

_It continues._

_Always following the winds, always forward forward forward._

_Until it reaches its destination._

_It is of a place long forgotten as well, a place traversed by nobody. A sacred land, a holy site; a set of tan staircases covered in dust and ruined by the elements leading up the mountain range to an open canyon._

_Where once it had been shining bright with gold and full of hope, it is now covered by a dense fog. The leafless tree sits at the far back, dim without the God taking residence here anymore. It is a haunting shadow amidst the shroud._

_The winds stop, the petal sitting at the top of the stairs that would lead downward._

_A moment passes, and then another, the gales frightened to enter such forbidden land._

_But the journey is not over._

_The petal floats again, carried by a zephyr breeze through the thickness of the grey fog, down the stairs and into the valley, toward the pool that sits quiet and still and lifeless at the back. The rose glides down, brushing against the surface of the water, ripples immediately pulsing from where the petal sits and back again._

_A fresh breeze comes, picking it up once more- because its journey is not done._

_The petal drifts past the rippling pool, a subtle shine glowing from the center bottom of the water. Past the leafless tree, dancing around the branches, grazing the petrified bark. As it goes, color seems to return to the tree, little leaf buds finding a home at the tips of the branches._

_The fog, as if blown asunder by the wind, begins to slowly roll away. Inch by inch, the petal on the other side and drifting up the second set of stairs long since hidden by the immense tree leading up another hill._

_The mist clears, and there, at the top of the stairs… a single door made of white and ivory wood sits. Untouched and pristine, without a handle and rimmed with gold filigree and runes of a long-forgotten language._

_Large, extravagant… and closed._

_The winds keep blowing and the petal flies true until it meets the closed door, and alas, the breeze dies down and the world stills. The rose remains there as if glued, a second, two, three._

_It begins to vanish, breaking apart to particles of scarlet that disappear as well._

_Silence._

_(...The world keeps spinning, unbothered. Unaware. Somewhere far, far away; a person takes their last breath, while a baby draws in its first. In another place, a dreadful storm begins, while elsewhere, a drought finally ends. Love is lost and gained. Decisions made and never considered.)_

_(Far in the corners of Menagerie, three huntresses of war set out on their next quest.)_

_And then…_

_The door creaks open, bit by bit until only a sliver is revealed. Darkness sits behind it, before-_

_Light. Gentle and glowing; weak and fragile, but..._

_Alive._

_Hope is reborn._

**_..._ **

_The journey has ended..._

_And a new one begins._

**_…_ **

**_To be continued…?_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, based on that ending, I guess you can tell that I do have a sequel in mind haha. I am not quite finished with this world yet and if you aren't either, just know that I do have a sequel coming out- eventually. I, unfortunately, do not have a time when that'll, but it'll come out eventually :). In the meantime... I do also have two separate companion fics (spin-off fics? Idk what they're called) for this universe as well.  
> One is the journey of Ruby's corruption and what she went through to make her like that. That is already finished and will start to upload in parts soon. (Warning: it is VERY sad. You thought this was angsty? You ain't see nothing yet.)  
> The other is what I like to call the "moments in-between." This epilogue happens 2 years after the final battle, and this companion fic will follow Weiss, Blake, and Yang and what they go through during those 2 years, month by month, and their recovery process.  
> Anyway, I hope you look forward to that, but if you don't plan on reading it, thanks for checking out this story! Have a nice day everyone!


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